


The Little Hobbit

by Canisa



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassination, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Little Mermaid Elements, M/M, Politics, Romance, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Slow Burn, Time Travel Fix-It, transformations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6961129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canisa/pseuds/Canisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You will make the most exquisite specimen in my realm"</p>
<p>Bilbo dipped his head to the side.  “Specimen?”  His voice was not alarmed, but steady.  A hint of curiosity lingered in the undertone.  It was clear he did not understand the word.</p>
<p>"I will have you.  But I understand in your realm, everything comes with a price"</p>
<p>“I would do anything to bring him back.”  He tilted his chin up.  His voice was confident, a little bit louder this time as he declared.  “I want to bring him back alive.  He deserves to rebuild the kingdom he had claimed back when no one else had thought it was possible.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: The Price

Chapter 1  The Price

He could still feel his blood stained his hands, his legs and his body, no matter how many times he washed and scrubbed.  The invisible crimson liquid seemed to wrap around him, like a boa constrictor, squeezing him until every trace of air in his lung was no longer there.  

Yet he stood there, unmoving, surrounded by stone, deep under the Lonely Mountain.  The warmth of the dwarrows around him could not stop the coldness of the stone snaking up from his bare feet.  The flickering of the fire torches could not dispel the darkness enveloping his heart.

So he stared ahead, seeing but not seeing.  The fire flickered again and blurred around the edges of his vision.  Then a horn bellowed, but he could only hear as if it came from the deepest depth of the  lake.

Or perhaps, it was he who was drowning in that lake, along with that accursed dragon, next to the glittering gold that worth nothing more than the weed in his garden.

“Bilbo. It is time.”

He dipped his head with the barest movement to acknowledge the calling.   Shifting forward, he tilted his chin up in time so that the liquid in his eyes would not spill.  He held up Orcrist, the Elven sword that had seen the terribleness of a battle.  One that ran through the vile creature who had killed his beloved.  And that blade now rested cooly on his open palms.   He stepped up the stone staircase slowly, coming closer to the stone platform that would forever house the one that held his heart.   

As he drew near, he felt his knees trembled involuntarily so he stopped.  He tried to swallow but could only feel his lips chapped and his throat dry.   

Distantly, he could hear his name being called.

It was gentle.  It was kind.  But it would not help him.

Pressing his lips thin, he closed his eyes momentarily and gathered himself that one last trace of control.   With a deep breath, he then took the final stone step that lifted him above the platform. 

He had every intention to not look to the left.  He knew what he was asked.  He was to put the Orcrist on the body and then to step down.  He had told himself every step of the way.

Step up.

Place the blade.

Step down.

Step up.

Place the blade.

Step down.

He had chanted silently with each step, forcing himself not to think of anything else but that three simple acts.

But when he did step on to that last stone, and when his small body rise above the platform, his heart betrayed him.  He found his eyes focused on the familiar large hands folding across a chest that was unnaturally still.  

As he traced his eyes up the cold body covered with fine fabric and gems, his breath hitched.  And before he could stop himself, he found himself staring at the ashen face of the King under the mountain.  

The brooding.

The frown.

The smile.

The anger.

The disgust.

The wonder.

The fondness.

The regret.

None of those emotions would ever surface on that handsome face again, for the body laid before him was still and cold.

“Thorin…”   He breathed, unable to to stop the words tumbling out of his quivering lips.  “Oh Thorin.”   And the tears in his eyes finally spilled over as his arms went lax.

The blade dropped from his hands, clattering noisily down the stairs.  The sound of metal against stone reverberated through the stone chamber.   Yet he could barely hear it for the sound of his own heart breaking was far greater.

“I can’t.”  He sobbed, no longer able to stop the tears overwhelming him like a tsunami.  And then his legs finally gave out, his tiny body followed the path of the blade, down the stone stairs, and never able to reach the one he so desired.

“BILBO!”

He was coated in that warm crimson liquid again.  He dimly recognized.  But this time, it was sourced from himself, and not the dwarf king.  For the king no longer had any trace of warm left in him.  He had departed, to the hall of his maker, a place the child of Yavanna such as himself could never reach.

The commotion around him fluttered as the darkness and sorrow drown him.

And the halfling welcomed it.

* * *

Dwalin was the one who caught Bilbo as his small body tumbled down the stairs.  “Oin!”  He called and gingerly handed the limp body to the healer.

“He had endured for far too long.”  The warrior looked pointedly at his white haired brother, who stood at the outer edge of a ring of concerning dwarrows surrounding their burglar.   He furrowed his eyebrow, wanting nothing but to throw accusations at his older sibling.   They should have not asked the halfling to partake in the ceremony.  The emotion was simply still too raw.

“Aye.  He had not shed a single tear until now.”

“And now he bled all over Tho….  Over the king’s tomb.”  Dwalin drew a deep breath.  He did not think like his older sibling.  He was a warrior for Eru’s sake.  He knew where to strike and to hurt.  It was simply not his jobs to care, for politics and pleasantries were his brother’s forte, not his.  And now that the halfling had fainted when he was damn sure that his brother was fond of the small creature.  “Why, brother.  Why made he go through the ritual.  It should be have been Dain.  He was to be crowned..”  Dwalin cut short as he watched the older dwarf sighed.  

Balin folded his arms behind him, squaring his shoulders.  “Because all dwarrows shall know Bilbo Baggins.”  He paused, sparing a look at the mourning dwarrows kneeled before the great stone tomb of Erebor.   “What he did for us.  What he is to our king.”   Balin turned and gently picked up an intricate bead from a gold plate. 

Dwalin eyed at the bead of gold and mithril that was meant for the consort of the king.  “Our burglar would not know its meaning.”

“But all our people will.”  Balin lowered his eyes.  “And Thorin would want him to have it.”

“Thorin is dead.”  Dwalin paused, taking a moment to reign in his emotions.  His voice came softer when he opened his mouth.  “It would no longer concern him.  It is best if the halfling could let go.”  Dawlin squared his shoulder.  “He needs to live and move on.”

“Could you?”  Balin asked as he watched Bufur and Bombur gently lifted up the hobbit, carrying him out of the stone chamber.  Even in the dim light under the mountain, he could see the tear and blood smearing the hobbit’s face.  “Could you move on like nothing happened when your One had been torn apart from you?”

Dwalin scowled.  “He is not a dwarf.   The burglar does not love like us.”

Balin took a long look at his brother.  His eyes gentled as he muttered.  “For Bilbo’s sake, we would hope that is the case.”  He gazed at the closing door and tried to not dwell on the heart broken hobbit behind it.  

The ceremony would have to continue on.

Both Balin and Dwalin was silent as the brothers watched Dain picked up the scattered Orcrist.  

The new King under the mountain marched onto the stone platform where Thorin Oakenshield would forever rest.

 

* * *

In his dreams, the dwarf was laughing.  The crease around his blue sapphire eyes made the dwarf king look impossibly vulnerable.

In his dreams, the dwarf was yelling.  The skin fold between his eyebrows could not damp down his passion and his protectiveness.

In his dreams, those loving hands ran through his honey curls gently.  

In his dreams, those strong hands gripped him, pulling him from the edge of the stone mountain to safety.

In his dreams, that same pair of strong hands wrapped around his neck with vile intentions.  They tightened.

And his words were distainful.

His words were gentle.

His words were poetic.

His words were cruel.

But the halfling did not flinch away from the anger of the king.  He did not shy away from the fierceness of his passion.  In his dreams, the little creature not only laughed but wrapped his arms around the dwarf king.

For he was alive in his dreams.  Whereas in reality the dwarf king laid cold on a slab of a silent stone.  And the brave little soul embraced all that was good and bad of the King under the mountain.

_ How interesting _ .   _ Why? _

“I love him.”  The halfling confessed plainly to the whispers in his dream.

_ Even when he had hurt you deeply? _

“It was not his fault.”

_ Ah yes.  The dragon sickness _ .  

“It was not his fault.”  Indignation in the halfling’s voice cut through.

_ Even when he wronged you, you defended him. _

“He was a good dwarf.  He was loyal… he was...”  Another sob escaped.

_ You spoke of emotions I do not understand.  Your acts puzzle me. _

The halfling ignored the voice.  Instead, he looked fondly at the smiling dwarf king.  He mirrored him.  A ray of afternoon sunshine embraced them.

And then suddenly, the scenery twisted and a storm chased away the warmth.

The smile on the dwarf king was displaced by an ugly snarl.  His blue sapphire eyes dimmed with rage.

But the halfling kept his hold on the dwarf.  Instead of flinching away, he came closer.  His lips at his ear, whispering words of comfort. 

And when the dwarf latched onto his arms tightly, he winced but stayed.  A sword materialized and the dwarf took it, wielding it in his hand.  The sharp edges of the blade came across the halfling’s delicate neck.

The little creature only wrapped his arm around the dwarf tighter.

_ How interesting.   _

“This is not you.  Thorin.”  The hobbit cooed.  Eyes stayed soften even in the face of abomination.  The blade drew a thin red line across the soft skin under his chin.

_ You are unafraid because you knew this is just a dream.  He cannot hurt you in this realm. _

“Perhaps.”  He hummed but offered nothing else.

A droplet of blood fell from the blade.  And the storm was suddenly over as quickly as it came.  Night descended.  Stars twinkled in the cloudless sky.  

The angry face of his dwarf was washed away.  And the halfling smiled.  The sword had fallen to the ground and bloomed into a white flower with splatter of red at the edges of the petals.

The taller of the two rested his head on the other’s shoulder in a relaxed stance.   

The hobbit’s arms never left the dwarf through all that.  And the two stayed together for the flow of time was irrelevant in the realm of dream.  He was content to spend in eternity with his dwarf.

But the long peaceful silence was bluntly interrupted by that same deep whispers in his dream.  

_ You will make the most exquisite specimen in my realm. _

He dipped his head to the side.  “Specimen?”  His voice was not alarmed, but steady.  A hint of curiosity lingered in the undertone.  It was clear he did not understand the word.

_ I will have you.  But I understand in your realm, everything comes with a price. _

He stiffened and tightened his arms around his dwarf.  A myriad of emotions crossed his face before it settled into a firm resolution.  He gazed into the space, his lips pressing thin.  “I would do anything to bring him back.”  He tilted his chin up.  His voice was confident, a little bit louder this time as he declared.  “I want to bring him back alive.  He deserves to rebuild the kingdom he had claimed back when no one else had thought it was possible.”

_ Tedious.  No one can bring the dead back after he crossed into the hall of his maker. _

“Then I suppose you will not have me.”

_ Is that your price? To bring him back alive? _

“That is all I ever wanted.”


	2. Chapter 2: The Bargain

Chapter 2. The Bargain

When Bilbo woke, he found himself lying on the enormous bed of a royal suite.   Groaning, he sank deeper into the soft pillow and drove the heels of his palms into his eyes to rub the last trace of sleepiness away.

The dream had a vividness that he had never experienced before.  His usual dreams were like looking through ripples and recognizing people by silhouette.  He could remember the sensation of fear, happy, and sad… but never really the details of the dream.  But last night was different.  It had seemed real, despite he knew it was just a dream.  And the hobbit half expecting that he would be waking up in a foreign realm, as the voice had seemed so keen on whisking him away.  The voice… IT…. had carried a sense of entitlement, almost childish even; it had wanted Bilbo like he was just a pretty little trinket, or rather, ‘specimen’ as it called him.

“AS IF!”  Bilbo huffed.  If IT thought he would just go with IT without having his wish fulfilled, IT must be some daft creature indeed.

Well, if IT were real any way.

But the up-side was, he had dreamt of Thorin again.   And the dwarf king was as clear as if he were real.  And the thought of Thorin made Bilbo sobered.  Still lying in bed, he gazed upon the deep blue fabrics overhanging the enormous bed posts   

Balin had said this was Thorin’s room, hadn't he?

The royal wing largely had escaped the destruction of Smaug.   White gems dotted the ceiling and rich tapestries with intricate designs lined the stone wall.  There were no windows but the wide mirrors made the room seemed more open and the expansive large paintings distracted the fact that here was a room that was buried under the mountain.   On one side of the room, ember burned quietly in the fireplace.  The small table near the bed was also lined with the same deep blue fabric that overhang the bed post.   On top of it was a small metal box with veins of gold and silver intertwined throughout.  White and red gems liberally sprinkled all over.  4 small round post under the box served as its legs and gave it a very finished and luxurious look.

Bilbo rolled to his side and reached out to the box curiously, his finger tracing the large golden round button extended from the lid to the main body of the metal box.  The round thing must have been the lock but the curious thing was that it didn’t have any keyholes. .  

Hmmm.

Although hobbits were not known to be as industrial as the dwarrows, Bilbo's father had been a great architect and had designed several of toy puzzles for Bilbo when he was growing up.

And Bilbo had proven to be a sharp fauntling.  With his almost photographic memory and  his superb attention to details, he was proud to say he was one of the best puzzle solver in the Shire.  

But the box in front of him was a complete mystery.   He had never seen anything like it before.  The fact that it made of metal (and not wood), made this puzzle deliciously challenging.

Bilbo plucked the box from the table and held it in front of his face.  He turned it over, inspecting while tugging gently at the lid.  The box stayed closed.   He experimentally pressed the gems but found none would budge.  He shook it and the rattling sound confirmed there were something inside.  

Just as Bilbo started to wrap his hand around the box to give a twist, a knock on the door startled him.  Bilbo froze, looking toward the entryway of the suite.   But before he could decide what to do, the door was immediately pushed open.   

A female dwarf walked in, her presence suddenly filled the room (Bilbo had hard time believing it, especially since the suite was enormous).   Even though she wore only few gems on her, her bearing was confident and regal.   Her raven black hair tumbled down to her waist.  An intricate braid looped around her head before it cascaded down the left side of her handsome face.  She had deep blue eyes with straight nose and resembled very much like….

Oh dear.

Bilbo scrambled to sit up on the bed, the metal box still in his hands.  “Queen Dis of Ered Luin, I...”  His Baggins side struggled to take over the situation.

“If you don’t call me Dis, then don’t expect me to extend  you the same curtesy of calling you Bilbo.   Master Baggins.”   She sat down on the bed next to him, her eyes held the same intensity as Thorin.

Bilbo shut his mouth promptly, but a small smile started to hang on his lips.  

How long has it been?  To hear bluntness from a dwarf.   He had been treated like a glass by his dwarrows since.. Since…  Oh dear...

Bilbo’s small smile faltered quickly.

Balin had requested a simple job for him to do… to do for Thorin.  And he completely ruined the burial ritual.  And not just in front of the company, but in front of all dwarrows from the Iron Hills, AND the Blue Mountain.

Was Dain even crowned properly?

“Yes he was.  Bilbo.”  The queen eyed at him incredulously.  “And yes, you were speaking loudly enough for me to hear.”

“Dis… I.. I apologize...”    

Where are you manners!   His Baggins side chided him severely.  And how would one go about apologizing for messing up her brother’s funeral!  Not to mention the coronation of the new King under the mountain!

“Good.  At least you remember calling me by my name.”  The queen of Ered Luin snorted and dismissed the apology easily as she suddenly reached for him.  Bilbo winced when her surprisingly gentle finger prodded at his temple.

Oh.. he had a bandage on wrapped around his head.  He must have hit his head as he tumbled down the stone stairs.  That would explain the pounding headache that had been lurking in the background.

“Thorin would be cursing us for causing you harm in the hall of our fathers by now.”   Dis muttered softly before she suddenly retreated her fingers and sat up straighter.  “Good.  maybe that would make him think twice about dying before me.”

Bilbo stared at the strong-willed dwarf before him.   

How much had she lost?  Her father, her grandfather, both her brothers…. And her sons are...

“Don’t you dare pity me, Bilbo.”  

“I would never.”  He tilted his chin up. “I simply wondered how I could measure up to the strength of your heart.”  He tried hard not to flinch under her intense gaze.   His sincerity was  promptly rewarded by a smile from Dis. 

Then her gaze shifted down toward his hands.

“I see you found one of Thorin’s puzzle.”

Bilbo looked down to the metal box that was still in his hand.

“Thorin was going to gift to Frerin on his birthday.”   Dis looked wistfully at the box.   “Thorin never get to give it to him because that accursed Dragon came not 2 months after Thorin made that.”   Dis reached over.  She pressed a red gem on the left side of the box while simultaneously twisting the golden round button to the right.   And a small key hole was revealed under where the button used to be.

“Ah…”  Bilbo couldn’t help but let out a disappointed whimper, as he didn’t get to spend enough time to solve it himself.

Dis chuckled for she saw right through him.  “Don’t worry, you still need to figure out where the key is hidden on the box.”  She handed the box back.

Bilbo gladly took it and inspected the keyhole.  It was quite tiny.

“Do you need some hints?”  The teasing tone was painfully very much like Kili’s.

“You did more than enough.”  He responded as he immediately flipped over the metal box.   

There could only be one place to hide a key  _ on _ the box.

He twisted the first round leg of the box gently.  It didn’t move.   Not deterred, Bilbo moved onto the next leg and when he twisted, the leg came off easily, revealing a long slender key.   

“Not half bad.  As you should be.”  Dis smiled.  “Seeing that my brother had chosen you….”

“I would have solved it if I have more time.”  Bilbo squared his shoulder.

“I am sure you will find more puzzle toys hidden in Thorin’s room.”   Dis responded distractly as she reached into her pocket.

When she withdraw her hand with her palm up, Bilbo’s eyes was immediately drawn to the object she presented to him.  It was a bead of silver and gold intertwining together in an intricate pattern, framed by tiny blue, white, and green gems.  

“It was supposed to be given to you during the ritual.”  Dis spoke softly.  

Bilbo looked up to her, and saw her blue eyes soften considerably.

“I will braid this in your hair, Bilbo.”  

“It is beautiful.”  Bilbo picked up the bead and looked at it closer.  The central pattern seemed familiar.

“It is the symbol of our line.”  

Bilbo traced the runes reverently.  

“Thorin made this.  As all of us would when we came of age.”

Startled, Bilbo immediately handed back the bead.  “I can’t take it.”  Bilbo lowered his eyes.  “I betrayed him.  I failed him.  You should have this.   I don’t deserve...”

“No.”  Dis reached his face with both hands.  

Bilbo was going to politely dodge but paused when he suddenly became aware that her right hand only had 3 fingers.   They had almost seemed mutilated, for the remaining stump had a jagged flesh that was clearly not healed properly.

The pause gave Dis more than enough time to captured his face and proceeded to rest her forehead on his.   “Never fear.  Dain had named you a  _ Dwarf Friend.”     _

Bilbo inhaled shakily and his attention was immediately shifted back to Dis’ face.  

“Your deed had been forgiven by Thorin in private and Dain in public.  If anything, I should be asking for your forgiveness, for the harm Thorin had wrongly caused you.”   Dis said sadly.  “Dwalin had told me much about what happened.”

“Never.. Thorin never had to apologize.”  Bilbo whispered.  His tear threatened to fill his eyes.  He took a deep breath.  “He was not himself.   I will say a thousand times if I need to.. But I am glad to have shared in perils with Thorin.  It was more than any Baggins deserves.”

“Then let me braid this bead onto you.”  Dis pulled away and looked at him squarely.  “So that all dwarrows would know you and Thorin had reconciliated.”

“That,”  Bilbo sighed deeply.   “..was borderline blackmail.”  

“It was simply the truth.”  Dis smiled with all teeth and reached for a good handful of Bilbo’s honey curly hair.   “A bit short now.  But in 6 months time, it would be adequate.”

To Bilbo’s surprise, even with her mutilated right hand,  Dis braided his hair with a practiced ease.  

Of the many times Thorin had talked about his famously fierce sister, never had he mentioned about the mutilated hand.   Although he tried hard to make sure his eyes stayed away from the hand, Dis still apparently noticed.

“It happened when I was barely of age.”  Dis spoke as her finger weaved Bilbo’s unruly hair into place.  “The goblins captured me and I had to get myself out of the chain before they did something worse”

Captured and bonded by chains.. She could not have any weapons with her. 

Bilbo widened his eyes and his hand came up to his mouth.  

The horrendous image of a child….

“Just a battle scar, Bilbo.”  Dis commented with disinterested as she clasped the bead on the braid.   She then twisted Bilbo’s body toward a mirror.  “You are now one of us.”   Her hands rested on his shoulder.

The moment was gone before he could ask more about her hand.  But he still filed the knowledge away as he stared at his image in the mirror.   

Dis had somehow avoided the bloody bandage on his head and masterfully weaved a thin braid behind his left ear.  The bead glittered proudly through the threads of his honey colored hair with every small movement he made.

He couldn’t decide if he were a dwarf or a hobbit now.

“Oin insisted that I would leave you to rest as soon as I completed my business.”  Dis said gently.  “You need rest.”  

Bilbo felt her hands left his shoulder and the weight on the bed was also simultaneously lifted.

“Be well, Bilbo.”  Dis smoothed her dress.  “Thorin may be gone, but we still need you.  Dwarrows are returning and winter is descending upon us.”  Dis smiled.  “I have heard halfings are great at growing things.  Something edible but not too greenery will be nice.”

“Hobbits.”  Bilbo corrected, even when he was caught off guard with Dis’ request.   And then he left a small chuckle escaped.  He should have seen it coming.  Thorin had often talked about how great his sister is at delegating.  “Of course, Dis.  I will do everything I can to help.”

“See that you do.”  The queen of Ered Luin spoke with commanding voice.  “It will take many seasons for you to get the farming setting up, so best to learn to be a dwarf quickly.”

Bilbo gazed at her, who unfortunately also sported an unreadable face much like her brother.

Could it be that this was her way to ask him to stay here at Erebor?  

Bilbo had planned to leave soon after the burial.  He even went as far to ask Gandalf to accompany him back to the Shire.  The mountain held too much memory, as short as it had been.  And he needed some space, to mourn, to heal…   But if the dwarrows needed him…  

He shook his head gently and hedged.  "I will speak to King Dain to see whether my help is welcomed.”

Dis let out a laugh.  “You may be suited for a court life after all, Bilbo.”     

Bilbo ignored the teasing as he walked with Dis to the door of his suite.  “Thank you, Dis.  for everything.”

You have no idea how much weight has been lifted….

“You are welcome.”  

Bilbo fingered the bead on his hair.  His eyes shifted from Dis to the door before him.   He worried his bottom lips before he finally ventured.  “Are Kili and Fili still….” Bilbo asked hesitantly when he twisted the door open.  His eyes never dared to look back at Dis.

“Nothing wakes them still.”  Dis confirmed from behind.  “Their wounds are … are healing slowly.”

“Right.”  Bilbo nodded, never missing the faint hesitation in Dis’ voice.   He stepped aside so that Dis could pass through.

“Join us for dinner at the hall.”  Dis said easily.   “Your dwarfs are worried.”

“I thought your people preferred ‘dwarrows’.”

“Trade with men too much I suppose.”  Dis shrugged but didn’t let go of the subject.  “Join us.  You can’t hide forever.  They missed you.”

They reminded him of the time he shared with Thorin.  There should be a company of 14 celebrating at that long table.  Not just 11,  with one dead and two in coma.

It was not right.

It was not fair.

Bilbo suddenly felt it was hard to breath.  His heart raced painfully fast but he kept his face placid.  

He gripped on to the handle of the door.  If Dis had noticed it, she didn’t mention it.

“I will.”  Bilbo promised and was relieved to see that Dis was satisfied with his answer.  

He maintained his smile as she turned and strode down the hall.

And as soon as Bilbo closed the door, he did nothing but immediately fled to the private washroom.

His heart raced and he felt the wall closing in.  Twisting the faucet opened violently, he then quickly splashed water onto his face.   The coldness calmed him down somewhat, but images of Thorin dying in his arms still overcame him.

He shivered as he tried to breath. 

“Finally she leaves.”

At the unexpected yet oddly familiar deep voice, Bilbo whirled around and was startled to see a stranger in his bathroom.

The stranger was lean and tall,  easily towering over any men Bilbo had met.   He was covered in a black cloak, with dark curly short hair framing his angular face.  His sharp eyes seemed to shift in a tone of blue and green, like an ocean. 

Bilbo gripped onto the sink.  His knuckle turned as unnaturally white as the man’s face.  

“Tedious.  I would expect more from you than fear.  Halfing.”

The voice in his dream... IT… was real.

Bilbo recognized with disbelief.

Or unless he was hallucinating.  Back in the Shire, Bilbo had seen many fauntlings concussed and imagined things after they fell down from tree branches trying to get those apples.

“I have a name and I am not a half of anything.”  Bilbo stood straighter.  “I am Bilbo Baggins of Bag End.”

“Your dwarf king calls you halfing.”

Bilbo observed the man.. IT… or his hallucinations closely.   He could have sworn there was a flash of confusion from IT when IT retorted.

Almost child-like.

The thought popped up again for the second time since he woke.

::I will have you::

And Bilbo was promptly reminded of IT’s prior declaration in his dreams.   “Why are you here?”  Bilbo tested.

“To make another proposition of course.”

Bilbo narrowed his eyes.  He dipped his hand into his pocket.   “There is only one wish I have.  And you had made it very clear that you could not fulfill it.”  His fingers touching the cool golden ring that could turn him invisible. 

“Of course I came with a DIFFERENT proposition.  BILBO BAGGINS.”  IT sighed dramatically, as if Bilbo were the dimwitted one.  “You creatures don’t know how to voice what you want.  You don’t want him to come back from dead.    What you really want is to be with him.”

Bilbo furrowed his eyebrow.  “What?”  

“I cannot bring your dwarf back from dead.   Death is an irrecoverable process. But I can control the flow of time.”  IT smiled gleefully.  “I can bring you back in time when he was still alive.”

“That’s….”  Bilbo widened his eyes.  “That’s amazing.”

IT was suddenly startled.  “You think so?”

“Of course.  If you could turn back time, that’s an amazing..…”  Bilbo suddenly slowed his words.  

The being before him was mysterious and child-like, but he had no doubt that IT was as powerful as IT claimed.  If IT could take him back in time, Bilbo could certainly fix many of  things that have gone wrong.

Thorin’s death.

Azog.

The Battle of Azanulbizar 

THE BLOODY DRAGON SMAUG.

If Bilbo could go back time, he could save many, including Thorin.

“.. That’s an amazing skill.”  Bilbo  watched IT puffed up ITS chest.  A proud faint smile lingered on ITS face.  “... of course, that is if what you said is true….”   Bilbo did his best to hide his smile as he watched IT deflated at his doubt.

“It is true.  No false things ever come out of my mouth.”

“Oh, the great one.  I want to believe you, seeing that you can materialize in my dreams and in my room.”  Bilbo smiled innocently.  “But you obviously realize that without demonstrations, I simply cannot take your words for truth.  I don’t even know your name.”  

“My name?”

“What are you called?  Oh the great one?”

“I am….”  IT considered.briefly before IT completed the sentence.  “I am what I am.  No name is ever needed.”   Then hastily  IT added.  “I can easily prove to you.”

Bilbo twitched his nose, so that his amusement would not surface on his face.  “You cannot bring the dead back, but can you heal?”

“Tedious.”  IT waved ITS hand dismissively. 

“Is that a yes?”  Bilbo felt his heart was leaping out of his chest.  He tried not to let his eagerness shown through his voice.

“Yes. Yes.”  IT responded with impatience.  “I can do something much more powerful.”  IT eyed around the room with mild disgust.  “I can restore this entire kingdom instantly.  I can even make the land fertile.”

Bilbo considered.  It was true that the rebuilding had been the priority of Dis and Dain.  But the task can be done by dwarrows, given time.

And Fili and Kili do not have time.

“Oh, the great one.”  Bilbo tried to appear as humble as he could.  “I would not dream of asking much from you to demonstrate.”  He bowed.  “If you are able to heal Fili and Kili Durin, I will be able to believe in your power.”

Bilbo had to give credit to IT for IT suddenly lowered himself, focusing intently at Bilbo.

If Bilbo had thought Dis gaze was intense before, it was nothing compared to ITS attention on him.

Bilbo shivered as cool air passed his cheek, yet he felt BURNT.  ITS eyes was now in a shade of grey.

After what seemed like a long time, IT finally spoke.  “Very well.”  IT stood up straight as IT stared down at the little hobbit haughtily.  “I will do this little demonstration for you, as it would cost nothing on my part.”   

Bilbo breathed out, not even realizing he was holding a breath.  “The generous great one.  I thank you for…”

“Save your breath, BILBO BAGGINS.  Do we have a deal then?  As a payment, I will take you back in time so that you can see your dwarfs again and when the time comes up, you in return, will come willingly to my realm.”

Bilbo smiled.  “For how long do I have to spend with Thorin?”

IT held up three fingers.  “Three Months.”

“And how far in time will you send me back?”

“When your dwarf knocked on your green door of course.”  IT replied with confidence, as if IT knew what Bilbo wanted.

IT had a long way coming.

“Three months?”  Bilbo did his best to furrow his eyebrows, despite the hopefulness surged in his chest.  “It is hardly a fitting price, for me to give up my eternity for three months of time with Thorin.  And on dangerous road to Erebor at that..”  Bilbo sighed drastically.  “Why, for three months, I would be smeared in Troll’s snot and trapped between the Thunder giants.  Hardly a romantic get-together don’t you think?”

IT arched ITS eyebrow but said nothing.

Bilbo tapped his chin, faking to consider for a bit.  “How about instead of that, let’s have a bet.”  Now or never.  Bilbo cleared his throat but found it dry.  He swallowed as stealthily as possible.  “How about you send me back when Thorin was still a prince in Erebor.  He wouldn’t have known me then.”   Bilbo smiled easily, remembering how interested IT was with his relationship with Thorin.  “Wouldn’t you want to know whether Thorin will still lo… “  Bilbo paused, taking a big breath and trying again, this time with a louder and steadier voice.  “Don’t you want to know whether Thorin will still hold the same affection for me under different circumstances?”

Bilbo watched IT blinked ITS eyes.

And so he pushed on.

“So let’s have a bet.”  Now it was Bilbo who held up three fingers.  “If I can make him fall in love with me, a nobody if you can imagine, in three months, I get to stay.   If I cannot, I will come to your realm willingly.”

Bilbo squared his shoulder and then waited for ITS answer.

ITS expression was neutral.  Almost too neutral that Bilbo just knew IT was considering his bargain seriously.  Bilbo fought to keep his breathing even and hoped.  But another part of him wondered why a being as powerful as IT would feel the need to strike a bargain with a lowly creature such as him.

Perhaps IT had genuinely wanted him for.. Perhaps companionship?   The brief conversation Bilbo had with IT had made Biblo think that IT was a lonely creature indeed.   Bilbo didn’t think IT would truly harm him.  Or at least IT would not harm him on purpose.

But then Bilbo shuddered as he had an image of his cousin, Drogo, trying to free a butterfly from a spider web, only to tore its wings in the process.

The butterfly had struggled and fell through Drogo's fingers.  It landed on the ground, flipping on its back in desperation.   Drogo could only look on with regret.

Before Bilbo could will the unpleasant memory away, IT answered in ITS deep voice.

“Deal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for those who left Kudos, booksmarks, subscriptions, and bookmarks! This chapter turned out to be much longer than I expected. It was unfortunately I couldn't get other POVs into this chapter as I have a lot of ground to cover. *eyeing at my outline* or perhaps, I am being too aggressive about my outline. Anyhow, I hope the chapter is not too dry as it was entirely on Bilbo's POV. I promise others will show up soon as soon as I establish the setting... :)
> 
> Please kindly leave kudos / comments and other form or encouragement. They are highly treasured! thank you!


	3. Chapter 3:  The Planning Part I

Chapter 3 The Planning Part I

It was as if he were submerged in water.  Weightless.  With no lights to discern his surroundings and no grounds to know what is up and what is down.  He just floated, gently, in this.. this warm cocoon of darkness.

But he did not panic, for it felt right.  This was where he belonged.  He now had all the time to think back every details of his life.

And above all else, he could vividly recall the quest,  his mother’s stern but resigned eyes, and his younger brother’s gleeful smile.

Oh yes.  They had just came to age and their uncle was preparing to reclaim their home.  It would be their first battle that marked their worth to their kingdom.  And what a quest that was.  He could not wait to tell their mother.  Almost roasted by the trolls!  And don’t forget smacking between the thunder giants’ fights! Goblins.  Orcs.  Spiders.  Wargs.  Dragon.  Eagles and giant bees with a shape shifter that could turn into a bear.   And the those tree-shaggers…   Oh.. what would mother said about Kili’s obsession with that she-elf captain!

And the best part.  How could he even begin to tell her about Bilbo?   Never mind how the halfling had defied their first impression and saved them countless of times.   The best part was that uncle had finally found someone who had caught his eyes!  But their stubborn uncle just refused to acknowledge it.  Never mind that.  He and Kili had already hatched a plan to get the two to finally face their feelings.  

Nothing beats locking the two in the closet with next to a super heated furnace.  Right?

Oh.. but there was the dragon sickness, wasn’t it?  And the orcs besieged them…

And Azog….

He jerked.   His body remembered the feeling of a cold metal twisted into his body.  The once comfortable liquid around him started to swirl.  Gone was the tranquil warmth.  It was now violent and BURNING.

Was this not the hall of waiting?

“Fili!”

And then his body dropped.  Or was it lifted?  He didn’t know.  The turbulence around him only increased, pushing and pulling him. 

“Help him!  He is in pain!”

He felt heat radiated from his torso; every part of his body seemed to hum and vibrate.  And then he let out a wordless scream as his felt his body stretched and then contracted.  His muscle seemed to tear and then reformed like a clay.

“Ignorant creature.  You think rearranging the molecules in his body is a painless process?”

“Oh dear.  Make it quick please.  I cannot see him in pain like this.”

His bones seemed to twist under his skin.   And then he could hear his knee snapped into place.  An excruciating pain shot up from his toes, spreading quickly to his spine and then to his fingers.

Without thinking, he reached up and for the first time since he fell into this strange sea of warmth, he was able to grasp on to something solid and soft.  He almost sobbed with relief yet not knowing why. 

“There.  See.  His arms are remade.”

“Fili!”

A harsh light suddenly burst through darkness.   He was again surprised that his other hand was able to come up and swipe the offending bright object away.

“Excellent.  His pupillary light reflex is back.”

A warm palm settled on his right cheek.  He immediately leaned into it. 

“Can you hear me, Fili?  Can you try to open your eyes?”

It was as if thousand stones had weighed on him, but he tried.  When he finally opened his eyes into a slit like a newborn baby, he recognized the pair of soft green eyes staring down at him.

“Bil…”  His tongue was thick.  He swallowed and tried again.  “Bilbo…”  He wanted to say how relief he was to see him but no more words would come forth.

“Oh… Fili!”

Arms encircled him, pulling him into an embrace.  Closing his eyes, he rested his head on the halfling.  Air was filling into his lung.  He felt raw.  He seemed to relearn to control all the muscle in his body.

“Do you believe me now?  BILBO BAGGINS.”

The arms tightened around him.  But it was not unwelcomed.  He felt safe.  It felt like home.  The darkness was creeping in, but he knew Bilbo would protect him.  The worst was over.  He sighed, relaxing into the soothing caress on his back.

“Yes.. oh yes.  Will you do the same for Kili?” 

“The agreement between us stands then?”

“Yes.  The Great One.  You have demonstrated your power.  I will keep my words and go with you...   Just…”

Go?

Alarmed, he fought to open his eyes and saw a silhouette of a tall lean shadow next to Bilbo.

“.. just give me one month to prepare, to make sure they are okay and I will come to the lake to fulfill our bargain.”

Don’t go.   Bilbo.  Don’t go like uncle did.

“One month?  That was not part of our bet.”

He wanted to snarl at the foul presence but he was just so tired.  

“Well.   We never specified when the bet will start, did we?  And besides, if I understand you correctly, this realm.. as you call it, will continue to go on even after I am gone.   I will not abandon the company after I have helped reclaim this kingdom for them!    The winter will be coming and I need to at least help them get the food issue sorted.  I will not have them starved!”

“Tedious.  I have told you.  I can make the land fertile.  I will not wait for 4 months just so that I can have you.”

He wanted to scream, to shout,  but did not have the strength.  His eyelids were heavy and he struggled to stay awake.  He gripped onto Bilbo’s hand and felt the hobbit squeezing back at him, as if to reassure him.

“Well now.  Aren’t you sounding like a little fauntling who cries when he can’t get his toy right at this moment!  Oh the great one.  I am sure someone as powerful and ageless as you, would not mind the 4 months to see through our little bet…  Having the land fertile is not enough.  The dwarves do not grow things.   They would not know the way.  The men in Dale are still trying to get their kingdom established.   The elves… who knows when they could forge alliance after century of mistrust!”

“You.. care for all of them?”

“Of course, I do.  They can be the most stubborn, ill mannered, pig headed dwarves….  But they are also my dear friends...  And I will not abandon them and leave them to starve in the winter….”

The conversation before him should have alarmed him further.  But he could no longer fight the exhaustion blanketing his entire being.  His eyelids became heavy and closed as his breath evened out slowly but surely.

“Very well..”

Tomorrow.  He promised himself, as he cling onto the last trace of consciousness. 

“But you will have only 2 weeks.  Nothing more.”

Tomorrow he will tell Balin…Dwalin…..about Bilbo… and about...

“But these two stay asleep until the day you leave.”

And the darkness fully overtook him as he slipped into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

Dwalin was relieved that the halfling had finally started to share meals with them.  It had seemed Lady Dis had finally hammered some sense into him.  But with his increased presence around the company, the halfling was starting to gain more attention from their Iron Hills cousins.   He was not happy about the curious glances the soldiers were throwing at the oblivious halfing.  Those weapons carelessly swinging about the halfling made his muscles ached with tension.

“What did the halfling and Dain talk about?”  He grumbled as he walking right into his brother’s study.

“Bilbo decided not to leave with the caravan led by Gandalf.  He had asked permission to stay so that he could come up with a strategy for making sure our people are fed through the winter.”   Balin responded, his head buried in the sea of scrolls.

“Stay?”  Dwalin was startled. 

“Aye…”  Balin sighed.   “Never thought I would say this… the company would have loved to see him settled in the mountain.  But with the attention he is getting…  Perhaps it would have been best if he left with Gandalf.”

Dwalin did not like the tell signs of his brother fingering his forked white beard.  He followed his brother’s line of sight and settled on a recently completed portrait of their new King.

Of course.  He was not the only one noticing how Dain’s eyes were fixed on their halfling lately.

“He is wearing Thorin’s consort bead.”

“Except the braid is just a courting braid.  Brother.”

Dwalin drew a sharp breath. 

“Don’t fret Brother.  King Dain has not said anything yet.  And I had words with his advisor, Nilor, he assured me that this could just be a passing fancy.”

Passing fancy?

How could his brother not see the inner strength of the halfling?  And the heroic deeds that he had done.  He had left his home and fought for a kingdom not his own.  From Bofur’s praising songs, anyone could understand the important role the halfling had played in reclaiming the mountain. To win the halfling’s affection would be to share that glory.  And it didn't hurt that the halfling was easy on the eyes…

“I know that brooding look.  Brother.”

Dwalin schooled himself back into a neutral expression.  Even though for him, it really meant an intimidating scowl. 

“Perhaps, just to be on the safe side,  Bilbo should be escorted back to the Shire for the time being…”

Dwalin grunted at the suggestion.  It made no sense to him that their hobbit would be driven away from the mountain simply because of an unwelcomed attraction from the King.  Here was the hero who helped reclaimed the mountain.  If anything, Dain should...  And then suddenly an idea clicked in his thick skull.  He smirked.  “Oin had mentioned that Fili and Kili are recovering at an astonishing rate, even if they are still in their deep sleep.”  Dwalin paused,  still remembering the joy pulsing through his veins when he heard the news earlier this morning.  “Perhaps Fili or Kili could wake fast enough to reclaim the throne to continue Durin’s line…  And that bloody Dain can go back to his own mountain soon...”

“Brother, could you not see this was precisely the problem?  Not that I was not welcoming the news of Fili and Kili’s recovering health…”  Balin breathed out a long deep sigh before continued.  “I am worried that this would force Dain’s hand rather quickly.  If Fili is to wake up now, he would have to give up the crown and return to Iron Hilss.  And any chance he has with Bilbo would be gone.”   Balin gave him a long look.  “If you were him, what would you do?”

Dwalin’s face fell.

* * *

 

Bilbo slipped into the library in the middle of night.  Even if he was tired, having written the first batch of letters all day today to Thain and to his cousins back home about the dire situation at Erebor.  

But he had work to do.  Two weeks to prepare to be exact.

Bilbo was not at all surprised at ITS reluctance to allow him to stay in this realm after IT had healed Fili and Kili.  Bilbo was under no illusion that he could help Erebor to get the farming going with only two weeks.  

So he wasted no time to set his plan in action.

He promptly showed up at the dinner with the company as promised.   A few exchanged words and he was handed the schedule of the caravans shuttling between the Blue Mountain and Erebor.  If he were to facilitate an alliance between the Shire and Erebor quickly, he could guarantee a constant supply of food to coincide with the regular Blue Mountain’s caravan departure.

But relying solely on outside source for food or anything was never a sensible idea.   The Fell Winter had taught him that lesson.   To make the land fertile and to teach the Dwarves the way to grow things, he would have to convince Drogo and Primula to follow the next caravan to Erebor.  Drogo was an excellent farmer for crops while his sweetheart Primula could not deny her thirst for adventure.  They would be the excellent combination to guarantee Erebor to thrive.

So Bilbo wrote his most elegant and passionate letters, pouring his heart and fervently hoped that Thain and his cousin would see his love for the people at Erebor.  He wanted them to have a decent chance to prosper.   And then when the ink was dried, he watched his letters of hope carried by the large raven, who had promised him that it would return in 5 days with a response.  Bilbo smiled at that.  It certainly helped that Bilbo had been constantly sneaking his own portions of nuts and sausages to the raven to garnish its favor.

So yes.  Two weeks were more than generous. Thank you very much.

Now that the letters were out of his hand, Bilbo was not just going to sit idly waiting for a reply either.  He had his own preparation to do, for a journey he knew very little about.   He would not repeat the same mistakes he made when he ran out of the door with Tho… with the company without even a  handkerchief.

No Thank you.  He would be more than prepared this time, and not just provisions, but knowledge.

And that was why he snuck into the library in the dead of the night at this moment.  Ori had shown him where the Westron section was kept just earlier today.   Although he felt that little bit of tingling guilt for not fully coming forth about his true intentions to the young scribe, he kept his secrets.

He wanted a chance of a future with Thorin in it.  He could allow himself this little selfish wish, couldn’t he?

As he gazed upon rows and rows of books and scrolls in front of him.  Bilbo was impressed.  For a race that seemed to love their weapons and embroiled in wars constantly, he did not expect the variety of stories and poems he found.  The books were telling of justice, love, and sorrows.   Bilbo had to forcibly tear himself away from those books so that he would not lost himself in those beautiful words.  With resolution, he marched to the documentary section.  And he was not disappointed.  The dwarves’ love for their craft couldn’t be more evident in this vast storage of knowledge.  His eyes browsed quickly through the titles before finally rested on the one book he was set out for.

He smiled.

He was sure that as much as how secretive the dwarves were with their culture, documents of their love for gems would surely be present in the form of mining history to glorify their trade.  Barely containing his excitement, he gingerly took the book out of the shelf.  He did not mind a bit of the dust that came over him as he gently opened the book that had laid dormant in the lair of a dragon.

The scribe who made the book had obviously took pride in mapping out each and every veins of gem and stone in the mountain.  The neat cursive handwriting wrote out the dates of the discovery.   

Bilbo flipped a page and was greeted by more heroic stories of how the mines were…

“Can’t sleep?”

Bilbo inhaled sharply and quickly closed the book before he turned around.  “King Dain.  My apologies..”  He bowed deeply while at the same time tucked the book into his waistcoat in a smooth motion.

“At ease.  Master Baggins.  I did not mean to disturb your peace.”  The confident deep voice echoed in the grand library.  “How like you to find some quiet time here.  Balin had told me your love for books.”

Bilbo looked up and was greeted by a King who wore a simple green tunic.  His large hands folded behind him.  His regal presence did not pale Thorin’s.  Bilbo  had been told that Dain was a wise and courageous Dwarf King.  Stories of how Dain had succeed the throne in Iron Hill at young age and then led his people to prosperity were certainly impressive.  He struck a delicate balance between the loyalty to his cousin and his responsibility to his people in Iron Hills.  No one would challenge the notion that he would be a great ruler in Erebor.

Yet, as Bilbo recognized the crown that would have been Thorin’s sat neatly on top of Dain’s red hair, he could not deny there was a sharp knife twisting through his gut.  It was the gentlehobbit in him that kept his face pleasant.  “I am admiring how beautiful your library is.”  He was well aware that his smile did not exactly reached his eyes.  But there was only so much he could put on at this late hour.  “And I hope you don’t mind that a little burglar like me to thief a few books for some reading pleasure for the night.”

The king laughed.  “I almost forgot you were indeed contracted as a burglar by my dear cousin.”  The dwarf settled down and looked at him, a piercing gaze accented with an unreadable expression.  “He had chosen well.  You must be a great one, for you stole the most precious thing in this mountain.”

“Ah…”  Bilbo offered an apologetic frown.  “The Arkenstone matter was…”  

His words was suddenly cut off by Dain’s booming voice.  “That was not what I meant.  Master Baggins.”

“It was not?”

“You must be something to steal a King’s heart.”

Bilbo felt an uncontrollable heat rose on the tips of his ears.  “I.. I am not sure what you mean…”

“Sure you do.”  Dain retorted airily.  He then turned toward the books, easily shifting his attention away from the hobbit.  

Bilbo was glad that Dain had dropped the subject.  The dwarf king seemed to be browsing through the books, so Bilbo forced himself to relax into a more natural stance and turned to the books as well.  Trying to disguise his discomfort of the silence and the fact that he DID indeed steal a historical document under the King’s nose, he reached for the books lining the shelves.  His finger traced the books one by one, brushing off the thick layer of dust as he went.  Finally, he pulled out the book of poems he had spotted earlier.  He opened it,  sincerely marveled at the romantic words dotted across the pages.  He was so engrossed in the pages that he didn’t notice that Dain had circled behind his back.

“You know… as the King, I could give you this.”

Bilbo chuckled to conceal the fact he was startled by his presence.  “Oh no.  You don’t have to.”  He kept his voice light but the book inside his waistcoat was heavy.  “It will only take me a few hours to read this book.  I will just borrow it.  Ori will have it back by tomorrow.”

“No, Master Baggins.  You misunderstood me.  I meant this entire library.”   The last word was drawn out.  It echoed and hung in the air.

Bilbo widened his eyes and felt dread started to pool in his gut. 

“I would like to gift this to you, Master Baggins.. Bilbo.  I’d like to know you better, seeing that you will be staying with us for quite awhile.”  

“I…  I am just a …  a gentlehobbit…”  Digging his nails into the book he was holding, Bilbo realized the meaning between those lines and he cursed himself for not seeing this coming earlier.   Bilbo grew increasingly uncomfortable but he did not dare to turn around to face the dwarf.  It felt wrong, to be spoken like this so soon after….

Bilbo pressed his lips thin, squaring his shoulder bravely.   “It would not have been proper to…”  He struggled but the darn words would not come out.   He cursed innerly.   He had many practices over several years back in the Shire to throw off suitors.  After all, he owned the biggest and nicest smial in the Shire.  But all that meant nothing.  He needed Dain to broker an alliance with Thain.  He could not offend the new King now.  Gandalf had more than hinted about how stubborn and uncompromisable Dain could be.

But thankfully, Dain was the one who broke the awkward moment with another deep laugh.  “Just think it over.  Master Baggins.”  The hobbit relaxed, thinking somehow he was given more time to prepare for a response.

But before Bilbo could turn around himself and offer a polite excuse to leave, the dwarf king suddenly twisted him around, forcing them to face each other.  The surprised hobbit barely contained a gasp as he realize that the dwarf king was now towering well over him.  

Dain’s intense gaze zeroed on him.  Time seemed to suspend for eternity before the Dwarf suddenly gripped his shoulder solidly.   

Bilbo winced at the contact, but did not miss the fact that Dain swiftly bent down and whispered into Bilbo’s now overly heated ears.  

“My door will always be open for you.  Bilbo.”  His voice was low but confident.  It sent a shiver down Bilbo’s spine.  “Books are not the only entertainment in the night.”

At that, Bilbo inhaled sharply and the weight of the King’s hand was abruptly off his shoulder.  By the time he looked toward the retreating sound of the King’s footsteps, he was only greeted by the swinging of the ornamental doors.  

Bilbo breathed out, feeling the heavy weight of the mining book under his waistcoat.

Oh, these confounded and bothersome Dwarves.  Why are they always making it so difficult when he is trying to save them?

  
Two weeks are going to be too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear.. I think I barely made it to my promise of at least 2 weeks update. :) Just got back from a road trip, so apologize for the slight delay. the story turned out to be much slower pace than I originally envisioned in my outline. As you start to see part I..2.. 3... you will know what I mean. And poor Thorin probably won't make an appearance for another few more chapters... Hope the pace is not too slow? Let me know. but I blame Tolkien for creating so many interesting characters! Thank you again for all the kudos and comments! It help to know people are reading :)


	4. Chapter 4:  The Planning part 2

Chapter 4:  The Planning Part 2

Nori was thoroughly impressed.  With only a few tips and some adjustments, the halfling was now throwing knives and hitting the targets with remarkable accuracy and precision. 

“Throw me another apple!”

Nori picked up an apple, taking a bite before throwing it in the air as requested.  The off balanced fruit spun erratically.  A sudden blur of silver and the apple was nailed in the tree trunk to the left in a blink of eye.

Nori whistled. This was just 5 days of practice and Bilbo was already demonstrating a skill that had taken him some years to master.   “Had we known you have a knack for this,”  He hopped down from a crate full of apples.  “.. you would have escaped those countless sword practices with Dwalin.”  The newly titled spymaster smirked as he trotted toward Bilbo.   “Watching you waving that letter opener of yours makes my eyes hurt.”

The halfling huffed.  “That letter opener happens to save you lot a few times.”  He twisted around the hilt of the knife and watched it spun between his fingers with ease.   “And I would have you know that I was the champion for the Conker contest for 15 years straight since I was just a fauntling.  This is not much different.”  The knife flew from the index finger to the next and the next before pivoting around the thumb and returning back. 

Pride filled Nori as he watched the halfling twirling the knife effortlessly in his palm.   It was his own signature trick and he had always wanted to teach Ori.  But Ori’s strength was.. well, his strength.  His younger half brother had no problem smashing a granite with an ax, but had much trouble with tiny weapons.   Bilbo, on the other hand, was natural at handling the knives.   It was a suitable weapon for him.

Nori put up his hands.  “Peace, Bilbo.”  He regarded the halfling with interest.  “What makes you suddenly want to learn this?   A gentle-hobbit like you should be hiding in the library reading books with Ori.” 

“Well.”  Bilbo flickered his wrist and threw the weapon.  It hit the tree trunk, landing directly under the nailed apple fromly earlier.  “Since I will be staying for a while, it doesn’t hurt to behave more like a dwarf don’t you think?”  The halfling said easily as he walking toward the tree to retrieve the knives. 

Nori considered.  He recalled the halfling’s vacant eyes when Oin declared that Thorin was dead in the makeshift tent.  And the halfling had been an empty shell of a ghost.   When he tumbled down the stone stairs during the burial ceremony, Nori had been the one to help Oin lifted the hobbit.  He had noted the fingernail imprints in the hobbit’s palms and the tear streaking down his pale cheek.  

Anyone with half of a brain could know how much Bilbo Baggins cared for Thorin.  And how his death had affected the poor halfling.  

But then these few days, Bilbo behaved as if he had a new purpose again.  He was engaged in conversations with the company.   He was always moving about.  Nori had suspected that Bilbo’s change was perhaps due to the news of Fili and Kili’s improved health.  But the thought was quickly discarded as he noted that the halfling spend very little time by the beds of the princes.

Behind the halfling’s polite smile, Nori suspected he was hiding something else.  

And then a week ago, Bilbo had asked him to survey the plantation fields with him.

Nori was a bit surprised that Bilbo had picked him for the trip, as opposed to Bofur who knew the land and was in better relationship with the halfling.  But Nori agreed.

After all, being the new spymaster, Balin had given him the mission to keep an eye out for the halfling.   The field survey for suitable plantation had been an eye opening experience for Nori.   Bilbo had dragged him around digging and sampling soils.     

But then, on the 3rd day of survey, just as the sun started to settle and they were returning from the edge of the forest, out of blue Bilbo had commented how he was impressed at Nori’s knife throwing skills and wanted to see some demonstrations.  

Nori had an easy smile then.  But underneath that harmless agreement, the gears in the spymaster’s head was turning furiously.

Bilbo did not just watched.  He was actively training for the skill.  And after 5 days, the halfling was throwing knifes like he had been doing so for a lifetime.

“What are these marking on the hilt?”   Bilbo suddenly asked, drawing Nori out of his thoughts.

He hummed at the halfling’s questions, gazing at the knives that he had made so many years ago.  “It’s Khuzdul.”

The hobbit rolled his big green eyes.  “Of course it is.  I am asking what it means.”

Nori paused a fraction of second.  “Fish.”  And against his instincts, he finally offered the answer.

“What?”  

Nori grinned then, loving the confused look on the halfling.  “Bilbo.  Those runes says the word ‘fish’.”

“Hum…”   Bilbo cocked his head, running his fingers through the runes.  “I didn’t realize you love fish....”

“No, I don’t.” Nori laughed.  “I hate fish.  Hate the smell and hate the taste.”

“Then why?”

“Because they were originally my courting gifts for… someone.”

Nori saw Bilbo suddenly went rigid and laughed in attempt to dispel his discomfort.  “Don’t fret.”  Nori shrugged carelessly.  “The dragon came before I could give it to him.”  Nori softened.  

“I am very sorry.”

“Never mind that.  It happened a long time ago.”  Nori paused and then smiled mischievously, changing the subject.  “Now, let's see how you are handling these little knives shall we?  What have we got here?”

The halfling nodded and returned from the tree trunk. He settled himself back to the line the dwarf had drawn in the dirt.  He gathered 3 knives and neatly put them behind his belt that Dori had made for him.  He hunched his back a bit, his eyes concentrating on a distant object and his hands fell loose on his sides.

Nori followed the line of sight and saw that the halfling had marked the tree trunk with a small circle, its radius not much wider than the width of the blades.  Nori picked up another apple, grinned and threw at the circle.

But Bilbo was faster.  A blur of silver again thrusted through air and landed with a thud in the dead center of the circle on the tree trunk. The apple, arriving a split second late, bounced off the hilt of the knife.   Before the fruit rolled to the ground, a second knife came through and anchored within the circle.  And when the apple finally landed and rolled on the ground, a third knife had joined the rest in the circle.

Nori arched his eyebrow.  “Are you trying to get me to recruit you?”

“What?”  Bilbo patted down the side of his trousers, most likely getting rid of the sweat in his palms.  “Oh no no.”  He offered a smile.  “Just urm…  just want to try my limits.  That’s all.”

Nori narrowed his eyes, fully aware that the halfling’s smile was a shallow one.

Was the halfling doing this to protect himself?

He had noted of King Dain’s interest in the hobbit, even before Balin had instructed him to keep an eye for them.  Not everyone was thrilled at the possibility of King Dain formally courting the hobbit.  There were many old fashioned dwarves within King Dain’s circle who would not like to be ruled by a perceived weak race.  Through the cracks between the walls, Nori had heard of many uncomfortable whispers.  Thankfully, most of them proved to be just words after Nori had.. inquired about it in the darkness.

But had any slipped through his fingers?  Was Bilbo threatened directly?

Nori let his eyes scrutinize over the halfling as he again walked toward the tree trunks to retrieve the knives.  There weren’t any bruises or cuts that Nori could spot.

Bilbo settled behind the line again.  He placed the three knives behind his back with ease.  The motion had become so fluid that those with unpracticed eyes would have missed the knives.

Nori then looked toward the tree trunk and noticed that the halfling had drawn another small circle within the original one.  “Just don’t take my job okay?”  Shrugging, Nori commented easily with lightness, but his eyes were trained on the halfling sharply.

* * *

 

Bilbo was just preparing for a fresh batch of scones in the kitchen when the raven finally returned.  The large youthful bird flew right into the tiny kitchen that Bombur, Bifur, and Bofur had built for him.  It nearly snatched a freshly baked scone before Bilbo heard the flap of wings and twisted himself out of the way.

“Floac.”  Bilbo admonished gently.  “These are hot!  I wouldn’t want you to burn yourself.”

The large young raven, son of Roac, anchored himself by the windowsill, cocking its head to the side, as if fainting ignorance.  

Bilbo arched his eyebrow.

The raven preened its feathers, conveniently avoiding Bilbo’s eyes.

“Silly bird.”  Sighing, he looked away and placed the hot pan full of freshly baked scones on the granite table,  “What’s the word?”  His hands were busy with the hot pastry, as he tried hard to contain his nervousness from the news he knew the bird had carried from the Shire.

At the inquiry, the raven straightened and hopped closer to Biblo.  “Old Thain took very long time to write.”  The raven squawked, indignantly defending why he was 8 days late.  

“And I am sure you didn't stay longer because of the sausages Primula was feeding you.”  Bilbo turned around, eyeing at the guilty looking bird.  “...  Seeing that you have...grown.”

The raven squawked again and stuck out its left foot, choosing not to speak for the fear of incriminating itself further.

Bilbo’s heart sank slightly.  He had hoped for a simple yes from the Thain.  But the official parchment tied around the raven’s foot was nothing but.

Deep down, Bilbo had suspected something was wrong when the raven was so late.  And the hobbit had tried to push the worry out of his mind.   So he kept himself very busy, as he had planned.  He spent his days in the field with Nori, surveying and practicing throwing knives as he suspected that he would need to combat that bloody dragon the 2nd time.   And then in the evenings, he tracked down the company one by one so that he could silently say farewell as he spent time with them and found out more about their past.

But as the days drag on and still no sign of the raven, Bilbo found himself unable to fall asleep.  So he baked, during the dead of the night, in the kitchen that has an open window to outside of Mountain.   He baked when he could no longer stand at the battlement waiting for the bird without raising more suspicion from the night guards.  He baked when his thoughts wondered and the memory and worry started to surface.   In fact, he had baked so much that he almost took over Bombur’s job of making breakfast for the early shift guards.

And tonight, as he baked in the kitchen again in the night, when everyone else was asleep, the raven finally came.

“The lady halfling said she will follow the next cavarvan.”  The raven moved closer again and hopped on Bilbo’s shoulder.  “Her consort was not too fond but agreed to come.”

Nodding, Bilbo gave indication to the raven that he had heard him.  He was glad.  At least half of the problem was solved since Primula and Drogo had agreed to come help coaching the plantation.  Now the question was his grandfather’s demand.

He brought the parchment to a table and unrolled, revealing in fact to be 2 letters.  

The first letter was addressed to him by Thain.  Bilbo scanned through the neat familiar handwriting before he huffed.  “That thieving… good for nothing, Lobelia.”  Bilbo arched his shoulder and seethed, sending the raven off his shoulder briefly before it resettled back to the original spot.  “Can you imagine that?  Declaring that I am dead so she could take over my smial?!  Bloody hell!”

“I could pluck her hair.”  The bird offered, rubbing its head gently against the hobbit’s chin.  “Lilorc likes a soft nest for next spring.”

“Do that.”  Bilbo knew fully well that Floac was trying to impress a beautiful slim raven.     “Thankfully, my grandfather had put a stop to the auctioning of my property!”  Bilbo huffed.  As he imagined Lobelia’s ugly frown at the news of his “not dead”, he couldn’t contain his chuckle.  But then he also sobered quickly, suddenly remembering his bet with IT.    It was only 2 days left.

“That remind me, I should write a will…”  He absent-mindedly stroke the bird’s glossy feathers.   “We can't have that Lobelia have a run with Bag End, can we?”  He smiled as he felt the bird leaned in his hand to seek more petting.   “Best to pass the smial to Drogo and Primula before it is too late….Oh dear…  I really only have two days...”   He muttered as he gently rolled his personal letter and tied a knot.

The raven eyed at him with interest but did not say anything.

Sensing he had talked too much, Bilbo dipped his fingers into his jar of nuts and offered to the bird.  He then opened the official letter bearing the seal of Thain.  It was addressed to the King under the mountain.  His grandfather had given him the permission to read through so he did.

His eyebrows furrowed as he scanned through the polite yet inquisitive words.  And he could not blame his grandfather for not taking precaution.  News of the Battle had apparently traveled to the west and so was the whisper of the gold sickness that had plagued the line of Durin.  His grandfather was rightly concerned.  Thain signaled that he would not be able to promise an alliance without direct words and guarantee from the King under the mountain.

Bilbo sighed.  He rose from his seat and dragged his feet toward the window.  Winter was coming quickly and his deadline to IT was coming even faster. He had hoped to avoid King Dain given his interest in him, but it look like it was not possible given Thain’s request.

Bilbo gazed out to the darkening sky, thoughts swirled in his head as chill air kissed his cheek.

Behind him, Floac swallowed the last bits of nuts before he hopped over to the pan of the cooled pastry and helped itself to the forgotten scones.

* * *

“Lad!  Come in.  Come in.  Balin beamed as he saw Bilbo hovering at his study door.

“It is late and I am not sure if my presence is welcomed.”

“Of course it is, lad.  We have all been so busy that we haven't seen each other for quite some time!”  Balin rose from his chair and walked over to greet the unexpected guest.   He also noted that the halfling was carrying a tray of scones.  The beaming doubled if that could be possible.

“I baked too much and thought we could have some late night snack.”

“Nothing I could refuse.”  Balin took the tray, placing it on the table. He then busied to put a kettle together on a small stove in his suite.  “So how are things in the field? I heard you went scouting for potential location for plantation earlier today with Nori again?”

“Not bad.”  Bilbo replied easily.   “It is quite promising on the east side.”

The casualness triggered an alarm in the back of Balin’s mind, especially since Nori reported to him of their trip every day, including the knife throwing activity.  But Balin only smiled amicably and turned as he responded to the whistling kettle.  By the time he turned around, Bilbo was already placing the tea cups and settling down at the table himself.

“And how are you doing?  The negotiation between Dale and Erebor going well?”

“As good as it can be, Lad.”  Balin stroke his forked white beard, his eyes twinkling.  “Dain is tough but not completely ignorant of the situation.”

“Of course.  I have heard he is a great ruler for Iron Hills.”  Bilbo poured tea for both of them.

“Aye.”  Balin acknowledged.  “He is a great warrior and certainly wise for his age.  He strikes hard bargains, but all in the interest of his people.”  He picked up the tea and took a sip.  He smiled. The halfling had timed the tea precisely.

“And you think he will do in the best of Erebor’s interest?”  

Balin regarded the halfling, seeing the sincere concerns in his eyes.  “Lad, I have no doubt that when he was crowned king, he is taking Erebor under his protection.”  He paused.  “Is that what you are worrying?”  

“Well.  King Dain is hard to read.   And he did refuse the request when Tho… he did refuse the quest in the beginning didn’t he?”

“He did refuse..”  Balin agreed but clarified.  “But it was because of his duty to his people.  You can’t deny that with a group of 14, it was a stretch to take back the mountain from a dragon.”

The hafling huffed.  “14 and a wizard.”

“Well.  Of course Gandalf was instrumental to the quest.  And Tho….”

Before Balin could finish the sentence, the hobbit cut in.  “It was just…  I don’t know Dain.  I don’t know if he will truly  govern Erebor without prejudice… Dain talks and talks and I don't understand what exactly does he want.”

You.  Balin wanted to warn but instead he fished.  “What did he talk to you about?”  Balin stroke his beard again.  “Besides the time when you had requested to stay in Erebor,  I can't quite recall the two of you have any meeting.”  And Balin would know, since he was in charge of the King’s schedule.

“Oh.  I just bumped into him once and talked about this and that.  You know.  Random things.”

Balin noted that Bilbo just happen to choose that moment to take a sip of his tea. This talk about ‘bumping’ into the King was no trivial issue.  Dwalin has been in charge of guarding the King most of the day, and he had not told of their accidental meetings.

Balin mentally took a note to ask Dwalin later.  In fact, if he were lucky, Dwalin should be off his duty and on his way to here soon...

“Speaking of bumping into the king by accident, I haven't been able to catch Lady Dis lately.”

“Lady Dis had followed the caravan back to Blue Mountain just yesterday.  Seeing that Kili and Fili have stabilized.  She needed to take care of something before returning with the next group.”  Balin paused, suddenly remembered the odd news Lady Dis had told him before she left.  “Did you know that two hobbits have requested to join her on the return trip?  They claim to be your kin.”

“Oh yes.  Dear me.  I forgot to inform you.”  The hobbit smiled apologetically.  “Can you imagine?  Apparently my home was being taken over by Lobelia Sackville Baggins.   She had been eying my house forever.   Everytime she showed up I had to hide my silver spoons!   So my cousin, Drogo, and his wife, Primula, rescued my home and were generous enough to bring my books and heirloom my parents had left me here.  Not only that, they would be most helpful to the farming effort as well.  You should see the mean tomatoes Drogo was able to grow.  Not that mine was not good, but he happened to…”

“Easy lad.  You need to breath.”

Bilbo took a deep breath, his shoulder rise and fell.  “Yes.  Of course.  It… It just upsets me so much that Lobelia…”

“One word and you know Dis can take care of that for you.  After all, she is heading that direction.”

“She is fierce isn't she?”  Bilbo smiled.  “Was she like that when she was young?”

“Well.”  Balin paused and then saw the courting bead dangling behind Bilbo’s ears.  It should not have been his story to tell, but seeing that Bilbo was now part of the family…

“No.  She was sweet and a bright little thing.” Balin decided that Bilbo should know the whole story.  “You have to understand. She was the youngest child and a female.  She was cherished by all.  We dwarrows do not have young easily.  Birth of females are rare.  She was well sheltered.”

“Something happened?”  Bilbo’s eyes darkened.  He paused, seemingly to search for words.  “Was it the dragon?”

“No.  It was not due to the dragon, even though the timeline was very close.  Only about 3 months prior.  And because of the dragon, she wasn't given time to heal properly.”  Balin sighed.  “She was kidnapped by goblins.”  Balin held his cup between his hands.  He found his voice flat at the memory.  “Dis and Flora, that was their mother, were on the way to Grey Mountain.  But the envoy was ambushed.  All were dead and little Dis was captured.  There was a ransom demanded by the goblins.  And the ironic thing was that they were hidden just a two days of walk north of Erebor.   By the time we figured out, Dis had returned, alone, having slayed the goblins by herself.  And she was not even of age.”

Bilbo’s eyes widened.  “I… I didn't know what to say.  I cannot even imagine….”  The hobbit casted his eyes down.  “She is strong.”

“Thorin…  Thorin never said it.  But he blamed himself.”  Balin looked into the flickering of the candlelight.  He pointedly did not look at Bilbo but he could sense that the halfling had tensed up at the name of their deceased King.   “He would have been with them if not for his father calling him away for a last minute meeting with the Elves.”

“He wishes things were different.”

“Aye.”  Balin nodded.  “But no one could turn back time, could they?”   The old dwarf watched the halfling fell into silence.  He saw him fisting the corner of his tunic.  “Bilbo.. Now that Thorin is gone…. Perhaps you should....”  

A strong knock on the door interrupted Balin.  And then the newcomer pushed the door open immediately without even waiting for Balin’s acknowledgment.  Balin winced internally, knowing fully who it was with such familiarity.

“Brother, I just heard from...”

“Dwalin!”  Balin rose quickly and cut off his brother’s outburst sharply.  “Bilbo is kind enough to bring scones at this late hour.”   He smiled, manuevering himself quickly between Bilbo and his brother so that the halfling would not see the startled expression of his brother.  “I am sure you would like to try some.  You must have just finished off your duty.”

“It’s late.”  Bilbo suddenly rose from his seat.  “I best get going.”  

“Of course, Lad.”  Balin nodded, trying not to be too eager.  He and his brother had much to talk about.  “You are planning to survey the south side tomorrow.  Correct?”

“Yes.  That will be the last spot.”  The halfling admitted.  “Dwalin.”  He acknowledged the royal guard as he started to walked toward the door.   

Balin noted that the hobbit had curled his hand into a ball of fists.  As he debated to whether to keep the halfling longer and to discuss with his brother privately, the hobbit suddenly spoke again.

“Ah…. I forgot to ask...Balin, is there…”  The hobbit paused at the doorway before he looked back again.  “Is it possible to get an audience with the King tomorrow?”

“Dain?”  Balin cocked his head, a bit startled by the request but recovered quickly.  “Most likely not, my lad.  He will be at court all day.”

“Ah of course.”

“What is the matter that you wish to discuss?”

“Nothing important.”  The hobbit waved, another shallow smile surfaced again.   “Not to worry and I bid you both good night.”  

“You as well.  Lad.”  And then Balin watched the hobbit slipped away, closing the door as he went.

A silence blanketed the room as the two remaining dwarves stared at the closed door.   And then, Dwalin finally grunted out the question.  “What. Was. That.  about?” .

Balin considered briefly before he turned toward his brother.  “Bilbo just out of blue came to my study.”

“And why did he want to meet with Dain?”

“I don’t know.  We were just chatting random things.”  Balin shook his head.  “Though… it was odd that he mentioned he had bumped into Dain and talked to him.  Do you know any of this?”

Dwalin scowled.  “I would have known.”

The old dwarf’s head hurt.  There were scattered pieces of information and he could not put them together.  Something was not right.  Giving up, he then turned to his brother.  “What was it that you want to talk to me about?”  Perhaps another clue would help.

“Well.  Roac just informed me where Floac was these weeks.”

“Bilbo had borrowed him to communicate with home.”

“Not only that.”  Dwalin scowled.  “Floac apparently overheard that  Bilbo mentioning his need of writing a will before it was too late.”  He narrowed his eyes.  “Floac said he had only 2 days.”

Balin drew a sharp breath, remembering Nori’s report about Bilbo learning to throw knives.  Through the past year of traveling with him, Balin had known that the halfling had very little sense of self-preservation.  And for the life of Balin, he could not understand why Bilbo exhibited such loyalty to the dwarves.  

“Have someone follow him closely tomorrow.  Brother.”  He looked into the concerning eyes of his younger sibling.  “Our halfling is up to something.”

“Something dangerous?”

“Aye.  It may be so.”  Balin stroke his beard but his hand stopped in the middle as he realized something.   “Perhaps you should follow him now.”  Balin recalled that before his door was fully closed, he caught a glimpse of him heading toward the opposite direction of his chamber.

Dwalin arched his eyebrow.  “Now?”

“Now.”

* * *

IT did not know how long IT had been sleeping.

It could be hundreds of years.  Or thousands of years.   It had not mattered because IT had forgotten a lot of things already;  IT did not know ITS name.  IT did not know where IT came from.  Memory was a ball of fire and a sheet of ice intertwined together that clashed and made no sense.   And so time was irrelevant to IT.

So rather than agonizing ITS own existence.  IT simply slept dreamlessly, oblivious to the outside world.

But when the boiling of water shook IT from ITS slumber and when the firing breathing drake crash into ITS space, IT awoke with a start.   ITS eyes blinked from the bottom of the lake.   And when IT looked past the dead fire breathing drake, that was rapidly swallowed in ITS water, IT found ITSELF stared past the water, and at a most unlikely creature standing on a ledge of the mountain.  

How curious.

He was not a man, nor a dwarf.   Certainly not an orc and definitely absolutely not a goblin.  On one side of him, the fire roared in the men’s floating city, and on the opposite site, a ruined dwarf stronghold was just awakening.  And that curious creature stood in the midst of all that chaos.  The creature was smaller than IT had ever seen.  His honey colored hair glistened in the glow of fire.  And when his emerald greens eyes shifted from the burning lake to a regal looking dwarf,  he displayed conflicting emotions that IT had never witness before.  

Concern.

Desire.

Fear.

Protectiveness.

And when IT shifted and looked into the dwarf’s eye, IT saw sickness within the dwarf.

For the first time since IT could ever remembered, IT took ITS past form that IT somehow was able to fetch in the depth of ITS soul.   And then IT lurked within the comfort boundary of water.  IT watched silently as the relationship between the dwarf and the halfling unfolded.

IT was intrigued.  IT was thoroughly unbored.

So, after hundreds, and perhaps thousands of years, for the first time,  IT could not help but slipped into the halfling’s dream and made contact.

And as IT expected.  He enthralled IT.

And so at this moment, IT slipped through cracks between the rocks, watching the events unfold with curiosity.

This very night, just one day before their agreement, BILBO BAGGINS, instead of marching back to his room, was now shuffling toward the royal chamber of the King under the mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had been fighting with this chapter. I found it was very hard to link the events smoothly together. Perhaps part of me just want to get to the Thorin part.. and all these setup is just taking much longer than I had anticipated... Does it make sense that I myself is impatient with my own story? :) 
> 
> Anyhow, thank you so much for your generous kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions. I enjoy writing this story, but knowing that someone is reading certainly help with my morale. :) thanks again.


	5. Chapter 5: The Departure part 1

Chapter 5:  The Departure Part 1

Bilbo thought about using the magic ring.  Slip in under the cover of darkness.  Threaten the King with his blade and make him sign the treaty before his time with IT is up.  In and out.  Make sure the dwarves in this realm don't starve and then move on to his next challenge in another realm.  

But the respectable side of him chided him.  Threatening would only be a temporary solution.  No one would honor a decision made under the threat of a blade.   The hobbit wanted the Erebor to thrive and it would not start with a promise of bloodshed.  And Balin had spoken of Dain as a honorable dwarf who cared about his people.  He was king who would lead with courage and wisdom.

Perhaps their encounter at the library was just an aberration?

So rather than taking the short-cut, Bilbo made the decision to face the King.  He arrived at his destination only to find himself staring at the two guards posted in front of the King’s chamber.

Bilbo pressed his lips, unsure how to announce his arrival.  The plan of a simple knock on the door was certainly out of the window.   

The two Iron Hill guards looked at him coldly before the one on the left, who sported an ugly scar from his right eyebrow to his cheek, suddenly barked out a string of Khuzdul.

Right.  Why did he not use the ring again?

“Come on in, Master Baggins.  I could hear your hesitation all the way from here.”  The King’s words drifted out of the door from inside.

Bilbo tried not to let the startle shown on his face.  So he squared his shoulders.  His hands fisted and released a couple times before he walked past the guards and pushed the door open.

Similar to their encounter at the library, King Dain greeted him with a simple tunic, this time, in a muted yellow adorn with small white gems at the edges around the neckline and sleeves.  He was sitting comfortably at his study desk.  “Bilbo.”  Lifting his head from rolls of parchment laid before him on the table, the king acknowledged his presence with a low voice.

“Your Majesty.” Bilbo nodded, noting the smirk spread across the King’s regal face.

“Books are not enough for you tonight?”

“Not quite.”  Bilbo agreed, taking a step forward bravely.

“Oh?”  In a fluid motion, the King was on his feet and paced toward the hobbit.  “Are you taking up my offer?”

Perhaps stalking was a better word.  The hobbit felt like a rabbit hunted by a red fox.  A big giant, furry red fox at that.

“Not quite that either.”  Bilbo hated that he involuntarily took a step back when the king closed in with frightening long strides.  He steeled and stood his ground.

The King laughed.  “Not many refuses me.”

“Not many hold the kingdom’s survival in his hand.”  Bilbo would not take another step back.  Even if the King was now right in front of him.  He could feel strands of his red beard ghostly brushing against his cheek.  He willed his body to go rigid as he tilted his chin up to meet the gaze of the King.  

Dain arched his eyebrow.  “Pray tell.  Master Baggins.”  Amusement was evident in his voice.

“Your people will be starving when winter come.”  Bilbo pressed his lips thin.  “I have surveyed the ground.  They are barely fertile and you would not be able to grow anything until spring comes.”

“”We trade.”  The King said dismissively.

“Of course.  That would be fine, if you have someone to trade with.  The men have not rebuilt their city and you have not striked a treaty with Mirkwood yet.  You don't want the elves to use this as a leverage, do you?”

“Iron Hills and Blue mountain will support Erebor.”  The King retorted.

“Except the men in Dale will also be starving and you can’t support them along with Erebor.”

The King sneered.  “Why would I care about the men in Dale?”  

“Dale is the gateway to your kingdom is it not? Even Thranduil sought alliance with men before waging war with Erebor.  Dale is a strategic location. If you have a great relationship with them, the men will be your eyes and ears.”  Bilbo smiled.  “Besides, King Bard is an honorable man.  Best to keep that line, rather than the previous corrupted one.”

“We can take them in a heartbeat.”  The king leered, his eyes dark.  “Why bother with diplomacy.  Enslave them and then they could do our bidding…”

Bilbo huffed.  “Did I help claim back Erebor for the likes of orcs?  Such dishonorable and barbaric act.  Your forefathers will be appalled at your behaviors!”

Just as Bilbo was ready to poke his finger into the King’s chest to demonstrate his disapproval, the King suddenly barked out a string of laughter.

Startled, Bilbo had to step back to give him room as the king was now bending forward laughing full heartedly.  Realization hit and Bilbo eyed at the King wearily.  “You are testing me.”

“I apologize, Master Baggins.”  The king let the last of his laughter drifted off before he looked at the hobbit again.  The madness in his eyes were gone.  “It was simply too tempting.  I applauded your courage to tell a King off as you did.”

“I tell it like it is.  King or not.”

“That you do.  And perhaps that's why Thorin had chosen you.”  The king muttered as his finger reached out, almost touching Thorin’s bead that Dis had braided into his hair.  But at the last minute, the King withdrew his reach.  He squared his shoulder and laced his fingers behind his back.  “I assume you have a solution to our problem.  Master Baggins?”

Bilbo relaxed visibly as it was apparent that the King would not touch him.  “Yes.  Your Majesty… I took the liberty…”

“What.  I am truly shocked.  Calling me Your Majesty?  Am I not barbaric anymore?  Master Baggins?”

“As I was saying...”  Bilbo drew in a long breath, ignoring the teasing.  “... I took the liberty to write to Thain and my cousins.  My cousins agreed that they will come.. In fact, they are on the next caravan from the Blue Mountain…. They will come to help cultivate the land for plantation.  In the meantime, Thain will agree to supply food to help to bridge the gap if…”  Bilbo paused briefly, considering diplomatic words.  “If Your Majesty could guarantee that dragon sickness would not plague the kingdom and that Blue mountain will lend its support to protect the Shire’s border.”

The King softened considerably as he listened quietly.  “Why do you care so much about my people?”

Bilbo sighed.  “Your cousin asked a very similar question.  Do you dwarves not help those in need?”

“It depends.”  Dain replied carefully.

“Well.”  The hobbit huffed.  “It does not go well in my book that I helped reclaim the kingdom but leave you lot to starve.  Kind of defeat the whole purpose doesn't it?”  Bilbo fingered the bead absent-mindedly as the memory of the past year paraded in his mind.  “And I have met very loyal, honorable friends.”  Bilbo looked up and fixed his eyes on the King with unwavering conviction.  “And I want to help them.”

The King… Dain smiled.  “Give me the treaty.  Master Baggins.  I would very much like to see your effort not go wasted.”

Bilbo took out the parchment from his waistcoat and passed onto the King.

“You do indeed hold the survival of my people in your hand.”

The most effective way to counter teasing is by ignoring.  Thank you very much.

Dain scanned through the official letter.   “I will not guarantee that the Dragon Sickness will not befall on Fili when he take throne.”

“You will… you will step down when Fili is awake?”

“Of course.  He is of age.  Erebor was rightfully his.”  Dain looked up from the parchment, almost a bit insulted by Bilbo’s words.  “The news of his improved health was most welcoming.  The sickness ran in the line of Durin’s first born.  That was the curse that had been placed since the beginning.  They love fiercely and passionately, and that make their heart easy to be preyed on.”

“But the Sickness does not run in your line?”

“No.  But we have our own problems.”   Dain admitted but didn’t elaborate more.  “I cannot guarantee that Fili will not fall into sickness.  But I can promise that I will do something about it.  I have seen how the once mighty King Thror succumbed to that sickness.  And Thorin….”  Dain drew in a breath.  “Trust me.  Master Baggins.  I WILL do something about it.   It that’s amendable to your Thain, I will agree to this treaty.

“You will?”  Bilbo did a double take.  Dain continued to surprise him.   He didn't think Dain could be convinced that easily.  He had prepared for any potential counteroffer demand from the king.  “Yes.  With Iron Hill’s promise to keep Erebor in check.  I believe I could persuade my grandfather.”   

“Well… actually.  There is one more thing.”  A smirk suddenly surfaced and Dain stepped into Bilbo’s personal space again.  “That is if… You agree to my consort, of course.”  The same leering voice was back.

“What?”  Bilbo flustered but caught himself.  “Don't be ridiculous.  I already talked with Bofur.  You already have a son.  Stop jesting and sign the paper.”

Dain stood back and a playful smile blossomed.  “I did not know you are asking around behind my back.  Interested?”

“Not the least.”  Bilbo replied dully, both hands on his waist.

Dain gave a final cheeky grin before he finally confessed.  “I did have a consort but she passed long ago soon after the birth of Thorin.”

Bilbo gave Dain a disbelieved look.

Dain laughed.  “That’s my son.  Thorin III Stonehelm.  Not your Thorin.  And don’t worry about my Consort.  Not all of us have One.  Bilbo.  Not like..:”

“One?  What is that?”

Now it was Dain’s turn looking at Bilbo with disbelief.  He opened his mouth, about to say something but then decided against it and closed his mouth.

The hesitation did not escape Bilbo so he probed again.  If he were to travel back in time to live among dwarves, he would need to know as much as he could.  “What is One?”

Dain sighed, averting his eyes while shifting to stand before the fireplace.  He watched the fire danced on the burning wood before he finally answered.  “We only love once.  After our heart has been given away to our One, we won't love the same again.”

“But your consort…”

“Hilen was not my One.  He died in the battle before I took the throne.”  There was a brief look of pain flashed on Dain’s face before it was smoothed away.  “I have duties.  And Hilen was a close friend. We may not love as fiercely but we learned to build a relationship that worked.”

“I am very sorry to hear that.”  Bilbo said quietly.

“So, there.”  Dain smiled again suddenly.  “There is no one standing in our way, Bilbo.”

Bilbo was bewildered.  “Wait just a minute.”  He raised his voice.  “You just said you don’t love any more.. How could you…”

“One can always appreciate… a fine… gentlehobbit such as you.”

“Oh stop it.”  Bilbo stumped his feet.  “You don’t need me to....”

“Smart.”  Dain came closer as he ignored his protest.  “Caring.”  Dain’s eyes narrowed on him.  “I am not jesting, Bilbo.   I am the King.  I can give you the power you need to help build Erebor.  Our interest is aligned.  Don’t plan on going off to your journey.  I know you are planning to leave.  And I know it is a dangerous journey.  Otherwise, you would have let your company know.”

“What…”  Bilbo widened his eyes.  What did Dain just say?  “I don’t where you get the idea that I ..”

“It’s not hard to guess.  Master Baggins.”   Dain smiled with all teeth.  “You obviously are planning on leaving somewhere.  You are not comfortable in my presence.  I make you nervous.”  There  was a odd hint of pride as the King made the statement.  “And this treaty…”  He eyed at the parchment still lying on the table briefly before he shifted his attention back to the hobbit.  “... really did not need to be discussed at this late hour. Yet. You are here.  With me.”   The corner of his mouth lifted.   “Alone.”   

Bilbo subconsciously dipped his right hand into the pocket of his waistcoat.  His finger rolled on the cool, soothing metal of the ring.  

“So where are you heading?  Master Baggins.”

“I..”  Bilbo stammered.  Here was this fearsome leader that he could not read.  This dwarf was obviously clever and calculating.  Bilbo’s mind swirled, thoughts going all different direction and unsure of what path to take.  He had underestimated him.

“Bilbo.  I was not jesting about wanting you as my consort.”  Dain suddenly stepped in and his callous hand reached up, touching Bilbo’s cheek.   “Not everyone understood how important you are.”  

Bilbo was startled to see the seriousness in Dain’s face for the first time since he stepped in.   

“I failed Thorin the first time, when he had called upon my help to claim this mountain.  I could not agree then.  I have to answer to my people.  And then I failed him the second time, allowing him to face that cursed Azog by himself.”

Bilbo felt his heart clinched hard in his chest at the memory.  He would not cry.  He would not shed a tear.  But the memory of that day roared back like a flash flood.  It threatened to tip his control.

“Though… I will not deny that your good look was a factor.  A huge one.  Bilbo.”

And there was that smirk again, this time oddly comforting, blowing away the sadness that was starting to suffocate Bilbo.  He gazed into darker blue eyes.  There was understanding behind them.  

Bilbo missed Thorin.  His heart yarned for Thorin.  And the hobbit suddenly realized that this dwarf knew exactly what he was going through.

“I will not force you to consummate the marriage.  Bilbo.  I know your heart belong to Thorin.  Like I said. I already have an heir.  Being my consort will give you power.  And when Fili wakes up, and when he retake his rightful throne, we will help him build Erebor.  When we return back to Iron Hills,  I will cover you with jewels and gems and you will never, ever, have to go through perils like this ever again.”  Dain was breathless, as if he couldn’t wait to get it out of his chest.  “I will give you what Thorin would have given you.  You will be respected.  I will do right for him...”   

Because Dain had lost his One.  And then he had lost his cousin.  And the guilt was consuming him like a fire to dry wood.

So when Bilbo finally understood, a sense of calm overcame him.  It was as if a fog has been lifted.  Bilbo was suddenly able to see Dain clearly.  “I am not the answer.  I am not your salvation.”  Bilbo’s eyes softened as he gently brushed away Dain’s hand from his face.  But rather than putting a distance between them, he held onto Dain’s hand with his both hands.  “You do not need any forgiveness.  Thorin does not blame you.”   Bilbo looked at the callous hand that was obviously marked with the history of numerous battles.  There were recently healed fresh ones too, definitively from the battle that he helped to defend Erebor.

Balin was right.  Dain was not an enemy.   They both had the same goal.  

The hobbit inhaled deeply before he looked up, staring into those dark blue eyes.  “I know. Because I was there when he told the company that you weren’t coming.”  Bilbo allowed a quiet sad smile.  “There was no blame.  I assure you.”  

Dain lowered his eyes.

“Everyone understood why you could not come.”

Dain shook his head.  “I would not change my action, because even now, I knew it was my only choice.  If I had to experience it all over again, I would do the same.  But this doesn’t lessen any…”

“No one blames you.  I don’t blame you.”   _Because I blamed myself._  “And you are correct.  I am leaving.  Tomorrow in fact… I..”  Bilbo hesitated but then decided to tell the truth.   He would need his support.  Someone.. Someone should know.   Dain would understand.  “I… I met a powerful being.  I don’t know what IT is… but IT was powerful.  IT healed Kili and Fili.”

Dain’s eyes suddenly sharpened.  

But to Bilbo’s relief, he didn’t comment.  Yet.  So the hobbit hurried on with his words.  “I believed when IT told me of his ability to take me back in time.”   Bilbo ignored the worried look from Dain.  He had to make Dain understand.  “I… I can’t go on like this, knowing that I have a chance to help change all this.  To see Thorin alive.  I am going with IT.  I am going back in time.”

“How can you be sure that this creatures is not tricking you to…”

“It did cross my mind.”  Bilbo confessed.  “That IT may be tricking me.  And that’s why I had IT heal Fili and Kili to prove ITS power.  And if IT was tricking me, at least one life is traded for two.”  Bilbo tried to give an easy smile.  “And that was not a bad bargain.  Fili and Kili should be awake tomorrow when I am gone.  Support them.  I beg of you.   And when Drogo and Primula arrives, please treat them right.  They will help Erebor.  Your people will prosper again.”

“Master Baggins… You do not have to do this.  You have already done so much for my people.. We..”

“No.  Your Majesty. You cannot and will not talk me out of it.”  Bilbo cut him off sharply.  “I gave my words.  And I am selfish.  I need this.”  I needed to set things right.  No matter the cost.  “I am going to go back before Smaug comes.”

Dain stared at him, speechless for a few seconds, before he squared his shoulder.  “Is that the payment.  Kili and Fili’s health?”

How could he forget Dain is sharp.   “Yes.”  Bilbo lied easily without a beat.  “I will be leaving tomorrow.   It had asked me to come by the lake.  And I don’t want the company to know.”

“They will not let you go.”

“No.  They will not.”

“Will we know what happened to you?”

“No…  this realm will go on.  IT said…”  Bilbo thought about what IT had explained.  “It is like digging a new trench to divert a river.  But water will still go on in the original river bed as if nothing happened.  So the forked river will now have two destinations.   There will be two futures.”  Bilbo smiled.  “And one of them will have Thorin live until his old age.”

Dain sighed.  “Are you asking me to fail Thorin the third time?”

“You are not failing him.” Bilbo tried to smile brightly to reassure Dain. “I am going on an adventure.  I will not deny that it is a selfish adventure.   I want to see Thorin.  I want to be in a world he lives in.  And if possible.. “  and it will be possible, at all expenses,  “I would very much like to prevent that dragon from invading Erebor.”  Bilbo looked at Dain and tried to relax into a natural stance.   “.. do you know why the bloody dragon come?”  Bilbo forced himself to breath as easily as he could.

After what seemed like a long period of silence, Dain finally gave up.  “It was the gold sickness that attracted the dragon.”  

Bilbo discreetly let out of a breath.  “King Thror?”

Dain nodded.  “His gold sickness lasted many years.  No one was able to stop it.“

Bilbo could easily see it.  The dwarves were loyal to fault.   He would know.   He had seen how the company were standing uneasily as he was dangling off the battlement;  they were unable to disobey, even if they knew what was right and what was wrong.  

“It was as if he couldn’t see anyone.  And Thorin and I were too young to do anything.”

“Does King Thror…”  The hobbit tried to repress his shudder at the memory of the vacant eyes.  “Does he.. um... care for anyone particular?  Was the King’s Consort still…”

“She passed away.  The only one he seemed to acknowledge was his granddaughter, Dis.  She was just a little one.  Innocent.   And King Thror... there were times when we thought he would came back to himself… but..”

But Dis was kidnapped by goblins…

Bilbo pressed his lips thin.  The puzzle pieces were coming together.

* * *

There were perks to be the captain of the royal guards.  

Case in point: the guards in front of the King’s chamber were more than happy to be relieved when Dwalin had stepped in to send them away.   No questions asked.  No suspicion raised.  Even in the middle of the night.  

For a good deal of time, Dwalin pressed his ears to the door of the King’s chamber, listening in to the conversation between the halfling and Dain.

Dwalin knotted his eyebrows.  There were many time he almost broke down the door, King or not.   His loyalty lies with Thorin and he would protect the halfling for Thorin’s sake.  But thankfully, Dwalin had to begrudgingly admit, the halfling was holding ground pretty well with the King.  And the revelation that the halfling was planning an unusual journey made him glad that he had held his temper. He would not forgive himself for failing again.

When the conversation drew to a close, he hurriedly move away from the door and dived into the shadow of a column. He would not be caught by the halfling for following him and listening in like a thief.  He would rather get caught shagging an elf.

From a distance, he could see the door of the King’s chamber opened and Bilbo walked out.  The halfling paused in the corridor.  For a fraction of second, Dwalin was worried that he had been discovered.  The halfling was clever and it would not be farfetched that he became suspicious about the disappearance of the guards in front of the King’s chamber.

But as his luck would have it, the halfling seemed to be preoccupied with deep thought as he lingered in front of the King’s chamber.  His eyes flickered toward Kili and Fili’s chamber across the hall.  At the same time his body made no movement toward it.  

Dwalin had known he cared about the two young princes deeply.   Perhaps the halfling will go into Fili and Kili’s chamber to say his final goodbye?

Just as Dwalin was making the prediction, the halfling turned away from Fili and Kili’s room and started to move toward the direction of his own chamber.

Dwalin sighed as he stealthily tagged behind.  

Of course he was wrong again.  He could never able to understand the halfling.  And Balin was right about following the halfling tonight.  The crazy lad was indeed going off to do something dangerous and reckless again.   

The trolls, the orcs, the spiders, and don’t forget to mention the dragon.  And apparently, this time a mysterious creature that he did not even know the name of!  

Dwalin snorted.

And people thought Thorin was the crazy one for going on this quest of claiming the mountain from a dragon.  Apparently, they did not know hobbits, or rather, a particular hobbit named Bilbo Baggins.

Dwalin shook his head.   He eyes trained on the halfling ahead of him easily in the dark.  

Never mind that.  He was a warrior.  And it was not his job to think but to follow and protect.

Dwalin’s hand automatically went to his axes, feeling the cool comforting metal strapped solidly behind him.  He had sworn to be loyal to Thorin ever since he learned how to use his weapons.  He had accompanied Thorin through battles and quests.  Now that Thorin died in this… realm?  Or whatever the word the halfling used.  If the halfling was going on this bloody adventure as he called it, Dwalin had no problem following him.   Welcomed or unwelcomed.

After all, his job now was to protect Thorin’s One.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter until Thorin make his appearance! there should just be one more part in this realm before we move onto the next. Though, I have to admit I had a lot of fun writing Dain's character. Thank you again for the Kudos, comments, and bookmarks! It makes me happy that people are willing to read this story and even take the time to let me know :) Cheers!


	6. Chapter 6:  The Departure part 2

Chapter 6:  The Departure part 2

He was just getting used to the perpetual state of darkness when an familiar yet urgent voice broke through.

“Get up!  Ki! Get up!”

Kili could not figure out what was up and what was down.   His muscle hurt.  His bone felt stretched.  Sleep.  His mind urged him.  But his brother was calling him, so like a good brother he was, he struggled to fight back the fog in his mind.

“We got to leave now.  We don't have much time.  We have to find him.”

“Fi?”  His own voice was hoarse.  “What is…..”

“Come on!”

He coughed out as a heavy object landed on him.   When he finally succeed in cranking open his eyes, he found the lights blinded him.  He winced and willed himself not to close his eyes entirely.  The light was harsh and unforgiving, yet there was comfort that the darkness did not offer. 

His brother was rummaging through the room frantically.  

Wait.  Are they in…  what happened to the battle?  

The roar of the weapons clashing felt fresh in his mind.  Yes.  He remembered.  They had rushed out of the gate to come to Dain’s aid and then uncle blazed through a trail of blood as they headed up to Raven Hill.. and then…

Oh Mahal.. Fi was impaled by..

“Hurry.  Put on your boots.  We have to move.”

Kili sat up and watched his brother moving from one side of room to the other with ease.  The familiar sight of him picking up knives and cleverly hidden under his tunic and his boot had no indication of the grave injury.

Right.  It was all a bad dream.  It had to be a bad dream.  Kili suddenly felt like sobbing.  It was years since he felt this way.  But that scene haunted him and that dread of watching his brother dying in front of him etched into his soul.  He could never go through that again.  Not ever.

“We don’t have time.  We have to catch up with Bilbo.”

Kili raked his black hair with one hand before he shifted and placed his foot on the ground.  The room immediately spun around him.

“Oh easy.  I got you.”

The familiar arm slid under him, steadying him.   “I am okay.. I am okay.”  Kili drove the heel of his hand into his temple, attempting to tamp down the rising headache.  It had to be the light.  “I had a bad dream, Fi.  I dreamt we all died on the battle and…”

“We did die, Ki.”  His brother looked into his eyes, all serious.  But then his eyes shifted a bit and that familiar ease was back into his eyes again.  “Well, technically, we didn’t really die.   We never got to the Hall of waiting… but we are pretty damn close there.  It would have been an honorable death defending our home and uncle.  But then Bilbo called us back to the land of living.”  The corner of Fili’s mouth lifted slightly.  “Ki.  Stop that.  You look like you just swallow a dragon egg.”  

Kili immediately closed his mouth.  The gear in his head turned, admittedly sluggishly, but he really tried.  But everything was drawing a blank.  “Wait… what?”  He spluttered.

“Come on, Ki.  Get dressed.”  And Fili smirked.  “We have a hobbit to catch up.  And you know just how incredibly light footed our burglar is.”

* * *

“Floac.  I am counting on you.”   Bilbo whispered to the raven before he gently stroke those black feathers.  

Perching on the hobbit’s arm, the bird only squawked in acknowledgement, breaking the gentle sound of water lapping at the bank.   The two of them were standing by the lake.  The sun was rising slowly in the distance.

Today was the last day.   

Bilbo briefly wondered if Fili and Kili were awake.   He had resisted the urge to see them before making his way to the lake, for the fear that they would give him the reason to stay.  Bilbo never could truly deny their wishes, if stealing from trolls was any indications...

The memory brought a faint smile on the hobbit’s face.  If only there were primrose, he would have braided into their hair while they were still asleep.  

But Bilbo know he would not be the one looking after them, nor was he qualified to do so.  Their mother no doubt would make sure they did not terrorize the hall of Erebor.  Dain had given his words to groom Fili into a King.  Balin and Dwalin… no, everyone in the company would give their best to make Erebor prosper again.

And Bilbo.. .  Bilbo was a Baggins of Bag End, and  he has his own job to do.   But even knowing that...sadness still filled him, even if he was set on the course.

He wondered if everyone would be angry at him for leaving like this without telling them.  It was a conflicting feeling;  hoping they would live happily after he was gone, but at the same time wishing them to remember the odd hobbit that he was. 

“I won’t be here when you return.”   Bilbo shifted his attention back to the bird.  There was not much time left.   The sun was rising quickly.   “Make sure you get the message back to your King.”  He stroke the bird affectionately again.  

The young raven cocked its head to the side.  It’s black eyes trained on the halfling intently.  “Bilbo healthy.  Bilbo not dying.”

Bilbo was confused a bit, before realization hit him and he let out a chuckle.  “So you did hear me talking about a will.  I am not dying, Floac.  I am just going on another adventure.”  The halfling marveled at how easy for him to lie.  

“Bilbo good.  Bilbo gives nuts and hot bread.”

“Well.”  Bilbo scratched under the bird’s beak.  “With this treaty.  You will be able to get all the nuts, and scones, and even sausages!”   He looked down at the bird’s feet, fixing the parchment and  double checking that it is tied at its foot securely.  

Suddenly, Bilbo felt a tug on his head.  “Ouch… What are you…”  He looked up, seeing that the bird preened its feathers, ignoring his glare.  

But as soon as Bilbo saw his plucked hair was tucked into the tie around the bird’s foot, he softened considerably.    He looked at the bird fondly.  “Ready to go, Floac?”  He asked softly.

The bird straightened as it squawked in acknowledgement. 

The hobbit lifted his arm high and felt the talons gripped his arm tightly for a brief moment before the bird spread its impressive wings.  Bilbo felt his arm dipped and then the bird took flight under the early morning sun.  The hobbit smiled as his eyes traced the black raven, who now carrying the treaty that would mark the beginning of the friendship between Erebor and the Shire.

Bilbo took in a deep breath, feeling the cold air filled his lung.  He closed his eyes momentarily as he simply enjoyed being embraced by the rising sun.  His mission was accomplished.  He could now go with IT without having to worry about his friends in this realm.  Whatever that would happen to him from now on, he would have no regret.   Like he had told Dain, in his book, he had already traded his life for two.   There really was nothing else he would lose.  And if he could somehow prevent the Dragon from taking over Erebor, great.  And if he could somehow be with Thorin for the rest of his life.. Well…  That would truly be his dream come true. 

He opened his eyes again, watching the last trace of the black that was Floac disappearing into the distance horizon.   His jaw was set.  It was time.  Just as he was taking a step toward the lake, a voice behind him halted him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?”

Bilbo sighed.  He should have known.  “Your Majesty.”  He turned to face his unlikely ally.   He should have guessed the King would follow him.  “As much as I… appreciate you being here and sending me off....”  The hobbit ignored the coy smile lingered on Dain’s face.  “I thought we have a perfect understanding of where my heart is.”

“Since I stamped my signature on that parchment like you asked me to, and save Thorin’s people.. I.just thought you may marvel at how great of a leader I am and decide to give me a chance.” 

“No. Dain.”

“Not ‘your majesty’ any more?”

Bilbo threw his hands up in the air. Sometimes, he couldn’t figure out Dain out.   “Your Majesty.. Dain.  You can’t possibly expect me to...”

“I know you told me not to dissuade you.”   Dain closed the distance between them.   “I have something to give you.  A parting gift, if you will.”

Bilbo glanced down and saw a metal bracelet in Dain’s open palm.  The jewelry bore no gems.  Yet, it was beautiful with intricate patterns etched onto its silvery surface.  

“It was supposed to be a bracelet.  But it would be too large for you.  I did not have enough time to work on it.”   Dain smiled with teeth.  “Put on your ankle.  Bilbo.   It will protect you in your journey.”

Bilbo gingerly took the jewelry and turned it over.  There were runes carved inside the bracelet… well, anklet for him now.

“What does this say?”

“My love for you, Bilbo.”

The hobbit looked at the King pointedly.  The playful smile on Dain’s face told Bilbo that it was not the truth.  Bilbo narrowed his eyes but the King before him did not cower, so Bilbo just let it go.  Truly, he had nothing else to lose.  

“You know.  For the first time, I regret I didn’t say yes to Thorin’s quest.”

“How so?”  Bilbo mildly asked as he kneeled down to put the jewelry around his left ankle as told.  He clicked it to lock and the cool metal hugged him snuggly.  He ran his fingers through the rim of the metal.  It was truly a fine craft.

“If I went on the quest, then perhaps I would capture your heart first.”

Without warning, Bilbo was suddenly pulled up.  The first thing he felt was the beard scraping against his chin.  And then the sensation of the King’s mouth pressed against his just about halted all his thoughts.

As the hobbit froze on the spot, still not fully understand the whole situation, the arm around his waist brazenly tightened.  Bilbo felt the ghost sensation of the king’s rough hand tilted his chin, positioning him better for a deeper kiss.

Wait…

His brain spluttered, trying to switch back on.

Now... Wait just a minute…

“Keep your hands off.  You sly old goat!”

Before Bilbo could react (like kicking the cocky King in his shin), Dain was already abruptly off him.

Bilbo blinked and saw a new dark towering figure stood in front of him.  He blinked again, almost blinded by the light reflecting off of axes from the morning sun.  “Dwa….Dwalin?”  Bilbo yelped in surprise, already half forgotten about the stolen kiss.

“Is that how you treat your King?”  

Bilbo turned, watching dumbfoundedly at Dain as the dwarf rubbed into his shoulder, painfully.  Though, his tone was not malicious.  In fact, it was almost too bland.  

“Shut it, Dain. You know where my loyalty lies.”  With that, Dwalin ignored his new King and proceeded to glare at Bilbo.  “You all right?”  

“What?”  Bilbo was still trying to process why Dwalin could have tracked him down.  Here.

“Are. You.  All.  Right.”  The warrior grunted out the words slowly.

“I… I think so?”

Dwalin knotted his eyebrow.  “You were just assaulted by that…”

“Well cousin, I could hardly call that an assault.  It was simply…  a simple goodbye kiss..”

“Shut up.  Dain.”  Bilbo hissed.  Damn that big mouth.  Now he had to figure out how to leave without Dwalin following him.  

But the warrior surprised him.  “I already know.  Halfling.  I am coming with you.”

Bilbo stared at him as the words come through slowly.  “What?”  No.  What in Eru’s name is going on?   “Not a chance..  I mean… What?  No!”  Bilbo shook his head violently as he backed away from Dwalin, his back facing the lake.  “Oh no no no no… You can't come.”  

How could he hide the fact he only had 3 months?  And how did he explain IT? 

“Oh no.  You are staying right here.  Dain!  You tell him!   No.  Command him!”  Bilbo called out in desperation.  “He is your guard isn’t he?”

Bilbo twitched when he saw Dain rolled his eyes.  

“Stay here.  Dwalin.”  Dain, the King, spoke in monotone as he shrugged carelessly.  “I command you.”  He added bedlatedly with mischief in his eyes.

“I am coming with you, halfling.”  

Bilbo backed away from Dwalin, all the way to the edge of the Lake. His feet touching the coldness of water and he shivered.

Dwalin closed in with long strides.  

“Stay there!  Oh, for Eru’s sake.  You stay there!”

“Watch out!”

Bilbo flickered toward Dain and saw the shock on the King’s face.  He had only a moment to reflect how ridiculously Dain looked before he spotted a wall of water coming at him from the side.

It was a good 10-15 feet tall water…  May be even taller than the trolls.

Oh dear.

A string of unrecognizable Khuzdul flew out of Dwalin as the warrior picked up the hobbit and slung across his shoulder roughly, attempting to outrun the wall of water coming straight at them.  

Before Bilbo could even yelp out in pain, the huge wave of water caught up with them effortlessly and collapsed from top, enveloping both Dwalin and him.  The water smoothly wiped them from the shore and into the deep end of the lake.

“Bilbo!!  We are coming!”

He couldn’t swim. No respectable hobbit could ever swim.   He tried to kick out Dwalin.  IT only wanted him.  He had to get Dwalin off of him. 

But the stubborn dwarf only tightened his hold of him.  In the midst of Bilbo’s panic, he was barely aware that Dwalin was trying to push both of them above water.  But the strong swirl of current only pulled them in further, negating all Dwalin’s effort.  Bilbo tried to scream at Dwalin to tell him to let go, but no sound came as he made the mistake to swallow more water instead.

It was only when, deep within the water with Dwalin, he choked out his last breath, he saw IT.

IT suspended serenely in the water.  

Even when ITS black cloak and ITS mob of curly black hair swirling around him,  Bilbo could see his pale face illuminated with an eerie blue clearly.

IT was smiling.

And Bilbo could not breath.

* * *

Oh Mahal.  What have he done?

Dain stared at the wall of water specifically went after the halfling.

No no.  He would not fail Thorin again.

He moved toward the halfling instinctively, only to be held back by his personal royal guards came out from behind.   “Your Majesty!”

Duties.

Dain shrugged off his guards.  He knew his duties.  They didn’t have to remind him.  He couldn’t risk himself.  He watched in horror as the water engulfed Bilbo and Dwalin, taking them into the lake.

Why did he miss it.  Of course.   This powerful creature couldn’t be possibly that benign.  He had assumed the creature would take Bilbo away… gently….  

Not like this…  Not like..

He watched the water roared dangerously and then in the middle of the lake, a vertex was generated, spiraling downward into the abyss.

How could he miss it when Bilbo had skimmed out the details.  The trade.  That hadn't seem right at the time.  Why didn't he spot the gap.  What other things did the halfling not tell him?

Dain cursed.

No. No.  This was not the halfling’s fault.  It was his.  He own this.

And now he failed again, for the halfling was drowning.

What time travel.  There was no time travel.   Bilbo had sacrificed himself.. Bilbo had…

“Uncle Dain!”

Dain swirled around, eyes widened as he saw Fili and Kili rushing toward him.

“Hello Uncle Dain!”  Kili waved, healthy as the day he was born.

“Kili…”

“Sorry, no time to talk.” 

“Sorry, uncle, good to see ya.  But we have to catch up with Bilbo.”

The duo ran past him, barely had time to complete their sentence.

“Bilbo! We are coming!”

“Wait!!!”  Dain called out, his fingers reached out but was unable to take hold of them.  “You don’t know…”

“We are going on an adventure with Bilbo!”

“Back in time!”  Kili threw back his head, grinning.  “We will be fine!"

“Don’t worry, Uncle Dain.”  Fili paused at the edge of the lake.  “I saw that thing.  He is taking us back in time.  I just know it.”

Dain caught a confident smile on Fili.  The youth was seeking approval from him.  And somehow... he believed his words.  Dain hesitated just that slightly, but still nodded.   And Fili nodded back, elbowing his brother as the two brothers leapt in sync without a backward glance.

The raging water swallowed the two brothers.  And then it was within seconds, the water started to smooth out again before it return to the calmness as it was before.  

Dain watched the water in trance, hardly believed what he had seen just moments ago.

Oh Mahal…  Dain resisted the urge to put his hand over his face.  He looked up to the blue sky, taking a deep breath.   He faintly noted there was no clouds.

After a long time of silence, Dain finally breathed out.

“Dis is going to gut me.”

And the guards behind him froze.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) phew.. another chapter completed! Many of you had called out about Dwalin following Bilbo... yup! :) I had to give Bilbo some help.. a hobbit in 3 months in the city that he doesn't know about, is not going to be realistic is it? :) Just for fun, I also throw Kili and Fili in it.. lets stir and see what happens, shall we?
> 
> Thanks again for all the encouragement/kudos/comments/bookmarks! I hope you enjoy it.


	7. Chapter 7:  First Impressions

Chapter 7:  First Impression

He knew there was something wrong with his grandfather.  And he was fairly sure everyone around him felt the same.   He had heard the whispers and saw the evading looks.  

And how could people not notice?

When he stood by his grandfather on top of throne, he watched his once grand and wise King reduced to a fidgety old man.   Nothing seemed to catch his attention as the old King drummed his fingers on the golden throne impatiently.  And really, the only reason his grandfather sat on top of that throne, was because of the Arkenstone.   He knew this because his grandfather often flickered to the Heart of the Mountain above his chair when he should have been paying attention to the dispute in front of him.  And the prince was sick to his stomach to see that hollow smile hung on his grandfather’s old face, directing a no one but the gold and that white gem.

He vowed.  

He would not be his grandfather.

And thank Mahal that their kingdom was rich.  Their people were more than adequately provided for.  Their neighbors all bowed to them to their prowess and riches.   The occasional attacks from orcs and goblins were only demonstrations of their combat power.

And the prince, even at the young age of 92, understood that this was why not many really cared that their King was descending into Gold Sickness.

Why would they when their way of life was not at all impacted by the mad King who only cares about gold.  If anything, his gold sickness only leaves a void of power in the court, allowing all to carve out a influence of their own.

But the prince loves his grandfather.  And he alone chased the ghost memory of King who had ruled the kingdom with might and wisdom. He missed those scar covered hands that used to wrap around his and taught him how to draw a sword. He missed those shrew eyes that never failed to catch him in his youthful mischiefs.  He missed that mouth that could not only spill out stern words but also wise knowledge.

And the rage simmered under his skin.  He was angry at how no one cared to do anything.  He was angry at how he was powerless and useless.   And most importantly, he was angry at himself for not being able to watch his grandfather succumbed further into the Gold sickness.   So the young prince found himself finding all opportunities of NOT being in the court with his grandfather.

And this time, like many times before, he joined a scout to fortify the Kingdom.

“Thorin.  They found the tracks.”

The young prince pulled his pony to a complete stop, waiting for his cousin to catch up from his left.  

“How old?”    His younger brother, Frerin, rubbed his hands together with a gleeful smile as he asked.   And Thorin did not blame him.   Their party had been out searching for 2 days now, and this was the first sign they have of the goblins.   This was Frerin’s first time out and he clearly wanted to have something to show to their father.  

“The stench was barely there.”  His older cousin, Dwalin, grunted.   “At least three to four days.”

It was too old.

Thorin furrowed his eyebrows.  Goblins were known to root in dark caves, and there were hundreds of old mine tunnels all intertwining along that north foothills within a couple days of riding.  As soon as goblins went inside those tunnels, it would be impossible to track those filth inside the caves.

“Let’s just follow it before the tracks are cold.  Who knew.  We could find carcasses along the trail and round them up.”  The younger prince piped up, eager to push forward nevertheless.  

Just as Thorin was considering to halt the scout party to head back, a sudden rustle came from behind.  Thorin immediately maneuvered his pony to the back, in between Frerin and the source of the threat.  He pulled out his sword, just in time to see a blur of blackness came straight at his face with full force.

Startled, Thorin jumped off the pony and readied his sword by his side.  The object flew into the forest before it suddenly thrusted out in the open again.   This time, Thorin could clearly identified that it was a raven.  

The raven was oddly silent as it cut through air with speed and agility, straight at Thorin again.   The prince ducked but lost his footing and sprawled on the ground.  The bird circle around the prince in triumph before it landed neatly on a tree branch.  Its round black eye stared.

A burst of laughter promptly emitted from his younger brother.  “Oh, sweet Mahal.  I got to tell Dis about this!  She is going to be so sorry that she missed that look on your face!”  

Thorin growled, eyeing at the unknown black raven suspiciously.  It had not looked like the ones under Carc.  This one had particular grey markings along its head and its wings.  And this one was much MUCH larger than their ravens.

“Speak.  Raven.  What messages do you have?”  Dwalin stepped in between Thorin and the bird.

Thorin did not know a bird could scowl.

The bird cocked its head, regarding Dwalin with its big round black eyes.

“May be it didn’t know Westron.”  Frerin peered closely at the bird.   “Poor little thing.  You think it got tortured by the Goblins?  Look at those burn marks on its head!”

The large bird (which by no means little, as Frerin as falsely suggested) suddenly jerked and snapped at Frerin’s finger, narrowly missing it.

The blond prince cursed as he withdrew his hand quickly.

“Apparently it understood Westron perfectly.”  Dwalin smirked.

“Oh, shut up!”   

Thorin sighed.   He really didn’t understand why his cousin and his brother bickered so much.  The two are constantly at their throats.   “What business do you have, raven?”   Instead of joining their pointless fights, Thorin turned his attention back to the messenger.  Ravens were proud creatures and Thorin had learned to best approach these haughty messengers with manners.

The raven regarded the prince with an intense stare before it suddenly flapped its enormous wings and took flight into the air.  It flew over the tree top and circled once in the sky before it suddenly dived downwards again.  This time not aimed at Thorin, but his younger brother.

It was too fast for any of them to react.

“That blasted bird ripped my clothes!!”

Frerin screamed as he held onto one of his tattered sleeves.  Cursing loudly, he jerked his pony sharply to the right, tearing through as he followed the bird.

“Frerin!  No!”  Alarmed, Thorin immediately swung back onto his pony.  

 

Goblin were not known to use ravens as baits.  But seeing that there was a pack that they were tracking, Thorin would not take chances.  By the time the prince sat on the pony,  Frerin was already nowhere to be seen.

Fear gripped his heart.  His younger brother was an avid fighter.  But he was also young and reckless as hell.

“Thorin!”  The prince jerked his pony to the direction of Dwalin’s voice and followed.   His cousin apparently  was already chasing after Frerin.   He kicked his pony, urging it to catch up.

“It’s heading toward the lake!

When Thorin and Dwalin finally caught up with Frerin,  arriving at the edge of the lake, they saw the oddest sight.

“Easy…”  Frerin was half crouching down.  One of his swords laid a few steps away while the other sword thankfully in his hand.

A black wolf was standing at the edge of the water.  It was in its defensive posture, with its ears flatten and teeth baring at Frerin.  The black raven from before perched calmly on a rock not too far away.   Its black eyes calmly watching the scene before it.

“There is a child!”

Thorin immediately flickered to where Dwalin was pointing.  Indeed, behind the black wolf, laid a small body,  his (or is it her) face down with upper torso by the edge of the pool.  The lower half of his body was submerged in water.

“He is alive.”   Dwalin spoke with hushed voice, as he slowly withdrew his axes from behind him.

Thorin observed the faint raise and fall of the chest and agreed silently.  He drew his sword carefully.  Crouching down, he slowly approached the wolf from the side.   If possible, he could use Ferin as a distraction and approach the beast from its blind side.   The last thing he wanted was for the wolf to chomp down and drag its prey to flee.  But dwarves were simply not made to be quiet.   Thorin and Dwalin had only taken a few steps before one of them (and Thorin would loath to admit it was him) stepped on a twig.   

The tiniest sound immediately alerted the wolf. It twisted its head toward them in a flash.

Thorin gripped his sword and immediately stood tall, making himself to appear as big as possible.  The wolf was on the smaller side and Thorin had hoped he could just scare it away without risking the little child’s safety.   But the most unbelievable thing happened when the wolf registered Thorin’s presence.  It suddenly stopped growling.  It’s ears stood and the tail wagged.   

It dashed toward Thorin.

“Thorin!”

The prince could barely hear the screams from Dwalin and Frerin before he was tackled to the ground by the wolf.  The sharp claws of the beast dug into his shoulder.  He put up his hands defensively but was pushed back with a jerk of the animal’s head.

Thorin braced himself.

But instead of the sharp teeth, he felt the wolf bumped its head into his forehead.

“Get away!”  

Confused, Thorin looked to the side.  In a short distance away, Dwalin, was waving his axes wildly, trying to get rid of the raven, which was flapping its enormous wings at his face.

“Brother!”  

At the sound of his brother, Thorin then returned his attention back to his immediate surroundings.  He felt dazed, barely aware of a frantic Frerin now kneeling beside him.   The wolf was now nudging its head deeper into Thorin’s chest.

Frerin was stunned.  “I think…”  He hesitantly put out his fingers, touching a visibly content wolf.  “I think it likes you… Brother.”

The raven abandoned Dwalin and flew over, perching on the wolf’s shoulder.  Both animals stared uncanny at the prince who was still sprawled on the ground.

“Do you think these two were guarding the child?”

Thorin agreed with Frerin.  “What did you do?”

“What?  Nothing!”  Frerin cried indignantly.  “I chased the raven here and then I noticed the child by the lake so I went over to take a look and then suddenly this beast…”

The wolf growled.

“Fine.. Fine.” Frerin waved his hands, placating to the wolf.  “And this gentle, MAGNIFICENT wolf…”  The younger prince rolled his eyes.  “...Came out of nowhere and forced me to draw my sword!”

“Now there is a third animal.”  His axes already back on his back, Dwalin commented drily as he pointed.

Thorin looked to the bank of the lake.  Indeed, next to the unresponsive child, there now sat a orange short-haired cat with its long tail curved around its lean body.  The cat looked relaxed but it's odd blue eyes fixated intently on them as well.

“I need to get up.”  Thorin spoke quietly and the wolf responded.  It climbed down from Thorin.  When it seemed to notice that its sharp claw had left ugly red marks on the prince’s shoulder, it whined softly.  

Thorin automatically petted the wolf, soothing the distraught animal, as he got up on his feet.  He walked toward the still unconscious child, with the wolf trotting happily next to him.

Dwalin followed, looking at the wolf with distrust, while Frerin was in awe.  “Are we going to keep it?”  The blonde prince couldn't keep his hands off the wolf.  He had never seen a wolf behaving this docile.

“So it could eat you in your sleep?”

“Ha!  Watch me tame it to take your head off!”

Thorin ignored the commotion behind him as he kneeled by the child.  He gingerly flipped over the limp body and rested the child in his lap.  And then the prince noticed the pointed ears.

“That is not a dwarf!”  Ferin exclaimed from behind. “ He is an elf child!”

But no.  That beardless face was not a face of a child.  He was…

“Look at his feet.  You dumb ass.”   Dwalin sighed loudly.  

“Yeah?  Said by the warrior who can't even beat a little bird!  I love how you were DANCING with your axes earlier!”

“YOU!” Dwalin glared.  “Thorin.  You better not die, otherwise the kingdom shall have no more heirs.”

“Fine.  Do YOU know what he is then?”

“At least I know he is not an elf.  Dumbass.”

As Thorin brushed away a strand of the honey colored curl from the creature’s face, the strange creature stirred.  A whimper escaped and Thorin felt his heart clenched uncomfortably.

“Is he all right?”

Thorin faintly noted an injury on his left temple. Otherwise, he saw no obvious wounds.

The orange cat gently shifted into their space.  It climbed up the mysterious creature and licked the unconscious face.  The creature stirred again, this time, his eyes began to flutter open.

Thorin found a pair of most amazing hazel green eyes, even if they were unfocused, stared back at him.  

“You…”

And the creature’s soft voice oddly gripped his heart.  

“...You are alive….. Thank…. Yava...”

His eyes fluttered again and then he slipped into unconsciousness once more.

Thorin stared at the creature. 

“You know him?” Dwalin arched his eyebrow.

Thorin did not look up to respond to Dwalin.  Rather, his eyes fixed on the courting braid hidden behind the creatures’ left ear.  And his eyes went wide when he saw the bead clasped at the end of the courting braid.

It was not possible.  His courting bead should be secured in his room.  Shakily, Thorin reached out and touched the bead.  His finger traced the coolness of the familiar craft.

“Maybe he mistakened Thorin for Dain?”

“Why would that be?”

“Well.”  Frerin was smug.  “He is wearing the protection bracelet from Iron Hill royalty.”

Startled, Thorin immediately looked up to Frerin who was pointing to the anklet on the creature’s abnormally large feet.  It indeed bore the symbol from Dain’s house.

“What’s that?”

Thorin hastily slipped his fingers off the the courting braid, and in the process taking the bead off by accident.   His hand wrapped around the bead tightly.   “Nothing.” He grunted.  As he pushed up, leaving the unconscious creature on the ground.  He squared his shoulder and dipped his hand into his pocket.  The bead soundlessly slide in.  

Dwalin looked at the now loose braid on the creature and then turned and casted a suspicious glance at him.  “What do we do with him?”  Rather than commenting on Thorin’s odd behavior, Dwalin gestured.  “And those.” His fingers pointed at the odd combination of a bird, a wolf, and a cat.

“I want the wolf.”  Frerin piped up, hopefulness in his voice.

“No.  The wolf stays in the forest.”   It was too conspicuous under the mountain.  Ignoring Frerin’s pout, Thorin straightened his back.  “Raven and cat can follow.”  He glanced pointedly at them.  “If you wish.”

Dwalin sighed.  “Are you sure he is not…”

“No he is not.”  Thorin cut sharply.

Because he wore my bead and Dain’s protection.  And I needed to find out why.

Resigned Dwalin bent down and picked up the creature gingerly before placed him on the pony.  He then swung onto the pony himself, holding the unconscious body steady.  

The raven flew to Dwalin’s pony and perched on the creature’s back.   The cat gracefully jumped onto Thorin’s pony, settling in front of Thorin.  Its head gently rubbed against Thorin’s hand.   The wolf followed in a short distance, heads hung with resignation.

“Call back the party.”  Thorin took reign of his pony.  “We are heading back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear.. here it is... Hope this is all right? :) 
> 
> thanks again for the comments/bookmarks/subscriptions/kudos! I enjoy finding out what people think about the story. :)


	8. Chapter 8: The Secrets

Chapter 8:  The Secrets

Dis was pissed.  

Narrowing her eyes and with a battle cry, she released yet another ax.  The sharp weapon flew through air and landed solidly into the center of the tree trunk with a heavy thud.  There was a minor satisfaction to imagine the ax embedding into those imbeciles.  But the satisfaction was only short lived as the reality of being abandoned surfaced again and overtook her.  She shook with anger.

How could they leave without her?

Biting down her lips, she trotted unhappily toward the tree to retrieve her weapon.  She gripped onto the handle and forcibly yanked the ax off the tree trunk.

“That was right on the mark! Great job, princess Dis.”

She snorted, ignoring the useless praise from her servant.   Of course it was right on the mark. She won the last 4 tournaments on Durin’s Day for Mahal’s sake.  But apparently that meant nothing.  Can't even join the scout!  Just because she was the youngest (by Durin’s beard, she is already 42!), she could not follow them to track down the goblin in the forest.  Should she remind them who always win out at hide and seek?  Should she flaunt all those medals in their face?  

Frerin was a good warrior but without a head, and her oldest brother Thorin just brooded too much and too lenient on Frerin’s recklessness.

She would been an infinitely better choice over Frerin!  As much as she loved her oldest brother, she could not forgive Thorin for picking Frerin, who was only 5 winters older, over her.   

Suddenly the memory of that smug on Frerin’s face as he rode out of gate with the scouts flashed in her mind.  Dis all but snarled and angrily threw the ax again.  It landed right on the mark again.

It garnished another round of praises but Dis paid no attention.  The sound of hoofs digging into the dirt made her turn toward its source.

  
“Princess, they are back!” 

Dis stood straight immediately and couldn't stop her heart from pounding.  Her eyes also betrayed her as she searched in the direction of the sound.  Indeed, she spotted her oldest brother’s raven hair flashing through the forest before she could spot Frerin’s golden hair not far behind.  Dwalin's impressive Mohawk brought up the rear of the small scout group of six.

Dis easily swung onto her pony.  “Get my ax.”  She called out hastily, pulling on the reins to steer the pony to the direction of the convoy.  Not waiting for a confirmation from her servant, the princess hurriedly follow the scouts silently.  She noted immediately that they didn't take the main gate.  Rather, they were heading toward the east.  

How interesting.  

She squinted and noted a body laid on Dwalin’s pony.  She gasped.

It was a child!  

The shock was quickly replaced with a smile.

Oh, this was going to be so much fun.  

Dis couldn't not remember when was the last time she met someone of her age.

She hunched low on her pony as she followed.  But as she closed the distance between them, she immediately spotted a black wolf trailing behind them.

She instinctively reached for her ax but cursed when she remembered she had left it with her servant.  In that split second as she contemplated whether to alert Dwalin or stealthily take down the beast with the dagger in her boot, the wolf suddenly turned its head.

It's blue eyes fixed on her, seemingly to bore into her soul.

Dis sucked in a breath.

The world seemed to slow down as the wolf pivoted sharply and took off in her direction, its paws kicking up dust.

Her mind screamed at her to move out of the way, but Dis was rooted to the ground, entirely forgotten she was on a pony.  There was nothing she could do to move her muscle.  Dis barely had the sense to swallow and duck when the wolf leapt in the air, its trajectory straight at her.

Her last thought before she closed her eyes were that her inexperience in real combat would be the death of her.

* * *

Kili’s heart raced when he spotted and recognized the she-dwarf trailing behind him instantly.   

She was so young with long flowing black hair and barely any whiskers on her chin.  Yet her eyes and her angular face was everything he remembered.

Kili would recognize his amad anywhere.

With the disappointment of not able to enter the mountain was completely forgotten in an instant,  Kili lifted his head excitedly.   Smiling broadly, he turned, (though whether that smile really came across as a dwarf smile on his new wolf form was lost to him).  He spared no thought at the shock he could spot on his young amad’s face.  He just wanted to rejoin with her and to feel that she was indeed real.  Breathlessly, he dug deep and pushed off from the ground.  He leapt in the air and in no time knocked his amad squarely in her chest, taking her down from the pony and to the ground.

Having learned the lesson when he knocked down and accidentally clawed uncle Thorin, Kili was careful to keep his sharp claws away from her bare skin this time.  He pushed his nose into her neck and inhaled the scent of his amad, allowing the familiar smell to imprint into his mind.  He could tell that his sense was not just amplified but …...

He had missed her.

“What….”  Her voice was high.  “Do you not wish to harm me?”

Kili pulled back and looked at amad curiously.  His hind legs stepped down from his amad, but his front paws remained on top of her.   He smiled again, his tail wagging uncontrollably.  Kili was about to reply but then quickly remembered Fili’s warnings.   They had a mission to complete after all and they had all agreed not to reveal that they could speak to anyone in this realm.  Reluctantly, Kili quickly clamped down his jaws and then pushed his head toward his amad’s forehead instead.   Not able to speak, he hoped fervently that the intimate gesture would convey his feelings.

“You….” Kili could see her eyes widened.  “You are a tamed beast..”  The awe in her voice was nothing short of a sign of bravery from his young version of amad.  Kili felt a sense of pride.  He could feel her hands boldly stroking his face and he immediately leaned into it.

“Where did you come from?”  The wonder in her voice made him smile.

The gentle stroking continued for a moment of bliss before the hand abruptly withdrew with a soft curse.

“Now you have side-tracked me.”

Kili blinked at his amad, not bothered at all by her short temper.  He stepped down, allowing his amad to get up to her feet.  He was used to her strong direct words after all.

“I lost them.  I don’t know where they are heading!”

Kili sniffed, catching a scent of Bilbo and his uncle easily.  He nudged his nose into amad’s hand.  As soon as he caught her attention, he pointed his nose to the direction.

“You can find them?”

Kili huffed but smartly kept his human words in his throat.  

The glint in his amad’s eyes suddenly spurred an idea and Kili could not contain his glee.  

Uncle Thorin didn’t want him to enter the mountain, but if he knew his amad well, he was sure she would be happy to sneak him in.

He opened his mouth and barked enthusiastically to acknowledge her question.

He was so happy to see a smile spreaded on his amad’s face.

“Well,”  His beautiful and strong amad, with her chin tilted up, looked at him expectantly.  “Lead on then, beast”  The corner of her mouth lifted in triumph.

And Kili eagerly obliged to the command.

* * *

“If I am not mistaken,” Balin looked up from the documentary he was consulting.  “This,” he pointed at the sleeping creature on his guest bed and declared, “... is a hobbit.” 

“A hobbit?”

“You can tell by their feet.”  Balin pushed the opened book toward Thorin.  He pointed at the text.  “It described here that hobbits are small with large feet.  But they don't leave their homeland often.   That’s why not many people have seen them.”  Balin flipped a page and then pointed at vaguely drawing of the hobbit creature.  The depiction has a unpleasing big head with pointy elf ears, bulging belly, and wide feet.  “They are creature of comfort from the west.  They know nothing of trade or war.”

Balin could seen Thorin furrowed his eyebrows.   Balin sighed.  Even he would admit that the creature on his guest bed looked nothing like the drawing.  With the exception of the elf ear and wide feet, this hobbit with gold curly hair had a good form with solid muscle.  He was not a bad looking sort.

“Yet this one carry an elf sword.”

Balin eyed at the pointy little weapon prince Frerin lifted from the hobbit belt.

“More like a letter opener, if you ask me.”  Balin chuckled at the huff coming from Dwalin.

“Elf child then.  With a toy sword!”

“Quiet down.  Frerin.”  Thorin lifted up his head after he dutifully finished reading the passage about hobbits. “This is not a face of a child, even if he does not have beard.”

“I want to know why he has Ironfoot’s mark.”

Balin agreed with his brother’s observation and was intrigued as well.  

Here was this mysterious creature… Hobbit, supposedly hidden in a land of all things green and never set foot outside of their comforts.  And then Balin watched his brother carried one and barged right into his apartment.  A hobbit who wore dwarvish clothing yet carried an elf made weapon... Curious creature indeed.

… and in the middle of him studying civil exam no less!

“Not only that, he was accompanied by these three animals.”

Balin looked toward his guest bed.  The orange cat curled up his body and rested next to the hobbit contently, without a care in the world.  The raven, on the other hand, stood still, seemed to look out wearily near the open windowsill to the right of his bed.

“What is the third animal?" 

“It is a wolf.”

“Pity Thorin wouldn’t let it in though.”

“I wouldn’t think it would be a good idea to let it in the gate either.”  Balin smiled at the pouting young prince, backing up Thorin’s decision.

“Is Oin coming?”

Balin nodded to Thorin’s inquiry.  “I dispatched a runner for him as soon as you came in.  Though, the clinic is quite busy, so Oin had sent words that he would stop by late tonight.”

“I still think we should take him directly to the King.”  Dwalin crossed his arms.  Balin could tell that his brother’s eyes zeroed onto the hobbit, almost unkindly.   How very like him to be suspicious of anything that may bring harm to his best friend.  “There has been goblins and orcs raiding in our forest.  Something is not right…  His appearance is...”

“NO!”

Startled, Balin turned to watch Thorin composed himself quickly right after cutting off Dwalin.  

It was out of Thorin’s character to yell like that.  Balin could count on only.. well, only that one incidence when Frerin decide to see if he could withstand the forge fire with the mithril shirt on.

“No.”  Thorin repeated again, this time with a calmer voice.  “With grandfa…. With the King in his… condition, I do not wish to see the repeat of what happened.’

Balin nodded in agreement.   “Indeed.  The King has been suspicious of everything.”  Balin turned to his brother, who was now sporting a scowl on his face.  “He would certainly be thrown into the jail with the rest of the travelers.”  Balin tried a reassuring smile.  “We would not know of this hobbit’s intention that way."

“He needs to be guarded.”

“And he will.”  Balin added smoothly.  He stepped up, petting on his brother’s arm.  “He is in my guest apartment and I will just be right in my bedroom next door.  If it helps, Thorin can assign whoever you feel like at my door.”

“No one shall know about him.”  

Balin studied the tight jaw of the older prince calmly.  There was something Thorin was no telling him.   He spared a quick glance at his brother, who only shrugged.   The scholar sighed.  He would have to go along with this for now.  If Thorin did not want to tell, there was no way to pry it out of him. “Thorin’s right.  We need to keep this within ourselves until we found out more about him.”

“Don’t look at me.  I am as tight lipped as you can get.”

“Frerin.  This is no joke.   If the King found out about this, his fate is sealed.”   Thorin warned.

Frerin pressed his lips thin, anger and indignation clear on his face.  He crossed his arm defensively.  “Actually, you should be worry about Dwalin and not me!  He is the one kept talking about telling the Royal court!”

Dwalin’s snort was loud and clear.  “I don’t like it.  But that doesn’t mean I can’t go along with Thorin’s decisions.”  The warrior narrowed his eyes.  “Unlike someone, I know how to keep a secret.”

“For Mahal’s sake.  That was just that one time.  How should I know he was going to…  “

Balin resisted the urge to put his palm on his face.  Children.  The lot of them.  Instead, he wisely doubled his steps and gently put his hand on the younger prince’s shoulder.   “Frerin.”  He mustered the best non-threatening voice.  “No one is saying that you can’t keep a secret.“  He threw a hard look at his younger brother before he  turned his attention back to the prince.  He continued.   “Did you say that there is a wolf also?”

To Balin’s relief, there was just a fraction of hesitation before the young prince nodded tightly.

“Well,” Balin smiled.  “Shall we go look for it outside of the gate before it is dark?  Perhaps we could put it to some good use for us?”

Having a wolf running wild outside of the gate was not wise.   Balin calculated.  Dwalin had mentioned that the wolf had stopped following him for some times when they entered the north gate.     

A grunt came from his brother.   “I guess I should write up the report of the scout soon.   The Court is gathering in a few minute.”

Secretly glad that at least one of the troublemaker would be out of the picture now, Balin waved as his brother walked briskly out of the room.   The scholar then turned to the older prince.  “Thorin, you should get ready too.  The council will not be pleased with a prince covered in grime and goblin filth.  Don’t worry about the hobbit.  My guards will post outside of my apartment for now until a proper replacement can be arranged.”

Balin allowed Frerin and Thorin moved to the door first.   But before he fully close the door, he could have swore he heard a soft chuckle.    Balin immediately pushed the door open again.   

“What is it, Balin?”

Balin squinted his eyes.  The hobbit remained unconscious on the bed and not a stir.  His breathing was steady.  “Nothing.”  He shook his head.  He had been studying the whole night so perhaps his ears were playing trick on him.  “Nothing, Thorin.”  He threw another look at the hobbit again.  Still the same.   “We should get going.”  Balin closed the guest room door and locked it for good measure.

When Balin made sure the doors were locked, he turned to the younger prince.  “Prince Frerin, why don’t you go ahead to the gate.  I will catch up.  I just need to grab my sword.”   

Frerin nodded before he took off.   

“Thank you.”  Thorin spoke quietly.   

Balin smiled, understanding the gratefulness from the older prince.  “Think no more of it.   Your brother and I would not spend too much time for the wolf.   We will be in the Court shortly as well.”

Thorin dipped his head slightly before he started walking toward his chamber to prepare for the court.

Balin patiently waited until both Thorin and Frerin were out of sight.  He tapped once on his thigh gently before he  called out to his young page.  “Nori.”  

“My lord.”  

Balin was pleased the answer came quickly.  “Go into the shadow.”  Balin commanded.  “Anything goes in or out, you follow it.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Balin smiled.  The skinny young dwarf had a knack for going about silently.  He would do.  

* * *

 

“By Durin’s beard, Dwalin.  You were as tightass as it come!” 

“You should not have snickered.  You almost blow our cover.”

“Oh Mahal.  I got to tell Kili about this.”  

The raven flew down from the windowsill, promptly ignoring the cat’s giggle.  “I don’t see Kili.”

“Knowing him, he is probably hunting down some rabbits for fun.”  The cat uncurled its tail around its body.   Its blue eyes were clear with mischiefs.  “Oh he is happy now.  For once he is bigger than both of us.”   Its front paws reached forward as the cat stretched its long lean body.  “He knows the signal.  He will come when he is called.  I am more worried about Bilbo.  He has been unconscious since we arrived here.”

“He is just exhausted.”  The raven watched the rise and fall of the halfling’s chest.   The rhythm was steady and calm.   “He will wake when he is ready.”  

“You think Bilbo hit his head when whatever that wizard was making us going through?”

“You think that monster is a wizard?”

“Well, how else do you explain the magic he did to transform us into this?”  

The raven cocked its head to the side.  “That monster is not a friend.  Not like Gandalf.  There is something going on that Bilbo didn’t tell us.  We need to be on guard.”

“I have told you what I heard when they were in my healing tent.”  The cat flickered his tail.  “There is a deal behind all this.  And we need to find out what it is.  That thing doesn’t send Bilbo back for nothing.  He wants Bilbo.  He is… he is obsessed, to put it mildly.”

_I will not wait for 4 months just so that I can have you_

The cat arched suddenly as it remembered the words from the powerful wizard that morning.  The cat calculated quickly in its mind.   

Bilbo had initially requested 1 month to prepare, so that would mean…

“Bilbo only has 3 months.”   The cat spoke quickly, its eyes wide.  “And it was a bet.  He needs to do something before the deadline is up.”

“The halfling only told Dain that he wants to be with Thorin.” The raven paused.  “One month….”  It considered before it finally dawned onto it what time period they were in.   “The dragon…”  The raven locked its eyes with the cat.  “The dragon is coming in about 3 months…. “

There was a brief tense moment before the cat groaned.  “Of course.   It is always the dragon.” Its nose wrinkled with agitation.  “It is not a coincidence we are here at this exact time, is it.”

“The halfling.. He wants to stop the dragon.  He must have figured out something.”  

“Forget the dragon.  How do we save him from himself?!”

The raven hopped down from the windowsill and landed on the shoulder of the sleeping hobbit.  It regarded the cat carefully.  “We made him tell us.” 

The cat blinked and then grinned as if it had just swallowed a mouse.  “Oh yes…”  It was clear the idea agreed with it tremendously.  “Whether he likes it or not, we are part of his plan now.”

* * *

Dwalin.

The cat had called the raven Dwalin.

Hidden in the shadow of the secret passageway, Nori covered his mouth tightly so that he would not even let his breathing to be apparent to the cat and the raven.

And dragon? 

  
What in Mahal’s name is going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am grateful for all the kudos/comments/bookmarks. Unfortunately, real life has caught up... so I will be updating much slower now. *sigh*


	9. Chapter 9:  Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while. Real life was a bit hectic the last few months. A quick warning: there is no beta for now. I just want to get the story to flow again. I will go back and fix things later (and please find them for me!) Thanks.

Chapter 9:  Awake

When he felt it, the grey wizard dropped the small hobbit-sized glass he was holding.   It tumbled down without crashing.  Instead, it rolled across the wooden floor of the hobbit hole he was currently visiting.    He felt the axis of the world shifted.  And like ripple spreading through water, unease crept along his spine. 

“Gandalf?”

He could sense it.  The stirring in the wind signify a twist in the flow of time.   It was unnatural.  And there was only one being that he knew could do the deed.  “He is awake.”   The breathless words came out as whispers.   He furrowed his eyebrow. 

_No, it could not be.   No magic strong enough could have stirred him from his slump._

“Gandalf, is everything all right?”

The grey wizard stood abruptly, his eyes shifted to the window facing the east.  He gripped his staff.   If the grey wizard remembered correctly, he was laid there in the far east, near the stronghold of the dwarves.

“You are leaving?”  A young fauntling tug at his tattered grey robe.  “You just got here!  Mama will be back soon.   Do you not like the fruit punch I served you?   I am not allowed to go to the cellar to get wine…” 

The wizard froze for a split of second before he recalled where he currently was.  He twisted his attention back to his little hostess, a gentle smile already formed on his face.  “My dear Belladonna, I am afraid I will not be able to set off the fireworks this year.”

“Aww….”   The fauntling pouted.  “I don’t care about the firework.  You promised me that you would take me to see the elves afterwards.”

“Wizard business.  Little one.”  The Gray wizard winked, betraying none of the turmoil in his thoughts.  “The elves are not going anywhere.”

“Well.  Sure.  They are immortal.”  The fauntling retorted boldly to the powerful wizard.  “But I am not.  I could grow old and not able to get out of the Shire like Mrs. Sackville.”

The grey wizard chuckled.  “You are absolutely right.”   He bent and patted the little fauntling.  He gazed into her brave eyes.  “But this is important.  There is something I need to take a look.”

“Couldn’t you just send your butterfly?   I know you talk to butterflies.  I have seen you.”

The grey wizard laughed this time, the troubling thought momentarily forgotten.  There was just something about the halflings that filled his heart.  If the world could learn from their way of life, perhaps he wouldn’t have to do so much meddling.   “There are things the butterflies….”   The grey wizard started to explain.   But as soon as he opened his mouth, he paused abruptly as a thought came through.   Erebor would be months of traveling.  It would not do if he missed it.   “Actually, that was a wonderful idea.   Belladonna.”   The gray wizard recovered as he smiled.   “I will do as you suggested.”

“So you are staying then?”

“Just for a little longer. ”  The gray wizard bent and picked up the dropped glass.  “Until the butterfly call my ride for me.”

“A horse?”   The little fauntling’s eyes sparkled with the hope of seeing a full sized horse.  She had heard that her ancestor was so large he could ride a horse.   But none of the hobbits in the Shire was able to.  Heck, she could hardly see a pony in the Shire for all hobbits prefer to have their feet firmly plant on the ground.

“Oh no…  not a horse.   Much much better than a horse.”  The wizard sat down and tilted his head at the little one.  “The eagle will come to pick me up of course.”

* * *

Thorin was exhausted. 

Grandfather had not cared about the goblins.  The old king’s awareness of his surrounding was fading more and more each day.  It was not until Balin slyly suggested that perhaps goblins were here to steal his gold, did Grandfather showed any sign of listening to the court.

“Send the scouts!”  The old King had all but ordered with a yelp.   Those once wise eyes were now wide with panic.   It saddened Thorin but at the same time, the older prince was also relieved that he would have more resources to hunt down those filthy creatures.

The sightings of goblins bothered him.  Something was driving these creatures to Erebor.   Unlike Orcs who roamed in the forest like wild predators hunting for food and laying cruelty all around them without much purpose, these goblins were mercenaries.  They did not just leave their mountain unless there was a goal.   And the goblins had chosen Erebor.

He would protect his people.

“Thorin, why don’t you get some rest.”  Balin placed his hand kindly on the prince’s tensed shoulder.  “It has been a long day.  And we will need to organize another group of scouts out tomorrow evening.”

Thorin looked at his trusted friend and advisor.   Balin should be at the prime of his age, yet the prince could see strands of grey hair mixed with his black ones.   Thorin was rudely reminded that the burden was also taking a toll on his friend.

“I am fine.’  Thorin spoke quietly.  Guilt weighted heavily on his mind again.   Perhaps had him been stronger, he would be able to do more for his grandfather, for his people, and for their kingdom.

Thorin balled his fist.  The anger quietly overtook him and he did not know where and how to release it.

As if reading his mind, Balin suddenly shifted into the prince’s space.   “Shall we go see the halfling?”   The wise advisor suggested, his voice oddly light.  “Perhaps he is awake?”

And the distraction worked.   Thorin’s mind quickly turned to the hobbit they had picked up.

“Dwalin is getting impatient.”  Balin spoke softly.  “And rightly so.  With all the unrest, he would want to make sure that the halfling is not a threat.”

“He is not.”

 “And I suspect very much so as well.”  Balin looked at him, amused.   “But it will be best if we could be certain of that quickly.”  Balin stroked his forked beard thoughtfully.   “While Dwalin and Frerin are getting the provisions for the next scouting trip, perhaps we should hurry.   We can have a better conversation with the halfling without them lingering about.”

Thorin nodded.

* * *

 

Nori slowly backed away from the tight space and retreated further into the darkness of the secret tunnel.   Confusion swirled in his mind.   He would need to alert Lord Balin of the strange anmials.  But instead of hitting the wall as expected, he collided with a softness that growled at him.

“Don’t eat him.  Beast.”

Nori turned around.  Even if it was dark, he would not mistake a wolf crouched aggressively in front of him.  He gasped loudly as he was still too young to have the control of the spymaster he eventually would grow to be.

And apparently, his sound quickly alerted the animals in the room.

The black raven, which the cat had strangely called it Dwalin, flew at him in a blink of eye.   Nori ducked, but he was simply not fast enough.   The sharp beak dug into his forearm and he cried out.  Chaos ensued as a mix of screams from animals and dwarf erupted.

“STOP!”

The raven froze in its action and focused its black beaded eye at the source of the sound.

With his hair all messed up from the wrestling with the raven, Nori sat on the floor with a wild look.   It took a while for him to focus onto the source of the voice that stopped all the chaos.  “Prin… Princess!” 

Could the day be any weirder?

“Who are you?” 

Nori swallowed as he stared at princess Dis who stood fearlessly behind the wolf.  Thanksfully, at this time, the wolf had relaxed into a sitting position, with the raven perched quietly on its shoulder.

“I….”

“Speak quickly.”   The irritation was shown clearly on the young princess’ face. 

“Nor.. Nori… My lady.”  The young dwarf squeaked, attempting a pathetic greeting from his sitting position.

The princess arched her eyebrow.   “What is at the end of the tunnel, Nori.”

The young dwarf swallowed.  “There… Prince Thorin brought back a halfling…..”

“A halfling?  What is a halfling?” 

The sound of door opening suddenly evoked another set of flurry motions in the tunnel.

The raven lifted off, agitated, and flew back to the room.

The princess came to Nori’s side in a blink of eye.  “We will speak of this further.”  The princess whispered as she crouched down.   “Take me to the halfling.  We will see what’s going on.”

Nori could only nod in agreement as the wolf came to him as well.  Its nose gently nudged against his elbow.

It stung.

It was not until Nori looked down did he realize that he had a scrape on his elbow.

The wolf licked at it.

“Come on, Nori.”  The princess stood up, her face looking at the other end of the tunnel.  “I don’t want to miss anything.”

Nori stood up shakily, dimly aware that the wolf had used its head to propped him up.   The young dwarf looked down into the icy blue eyes of the beast and wondered.

_Can the wolf speak too?_

* * *

 

When Thorin entered the room with Balin trailing behind, he noted that the halfling was already sitting up on the bed.  Ray of sunshine filtered through the window danced on his honey colored curls.  The halfling had looked a bit disoriented as he pressed his fingers against his temple. 

His head was still not properly bandaged.  Thorin noted.   Perhaps Oin had not gotten a chance to come in yet.  With resolution, the prince walked closer, and the halfling shifted his attention to him.  

As a prince, Thorin was accustomed to being in the center of attention at all times.  But the attention from the halfling made Thorin felt conscious without reason.    His look had a heat in it that he could not comprehend.   And he briefly wondered why the halfling had affected him so.   Trying to shake off the odd feeling, Thorin squared his shoulder and stopped at the side of the bed.  He regarded the halfling on the bed as coldly as he could muster.

Thorin could sense a recognition flickered in the hobbit’s eyes.  And he saw the halfling sucked in a breath.

And the curiosity in him grew.

“Who are you?”  Thorin asked roughly, trying to mask his wondering thoughts.   And he watched the halfling wrinkled his adorable (did he just think that?) rounded nose.    

“What he is trying to say…”  Balin suddenly appeared besides Thorin.  “… is how are you feeling?   We found you by the lake and hurt.”  His voice was kind and smoothing.  “If we can understand who you are and where you came from, we could help you get home.   The forest is becoming dangerous.   And it is not a place for gentle creature such as you.”

The halfling lifted the corner of his mouth with amusement.   He opened his mouth and appeared to start talking.

“Speak louder.   We cannot hear you.”

“He is hurt.  Be gentle.”  Balin stepped closer to the bed and bent toward the halfling.  “You will have to speak louder, Master Hobbit.   I am afraid we cannot hear you.”

The halfling attempted again.   His mouth opened and closed, but still no sound came through.   He widened his eyes.   The small right hand came up to his throat as if that would help with the sound.

“You cannot talk?”  Thorin realized.

The halfling froze. 

Thorin suddenly felt his heart squeezed as he watched the Halfling stared at him incredulously.   The shade of hazel in his eyes captured him.

The prince coughed, trying to mask his discomfort.

And the sound seemed to wake up the Halfling from his trance.   In a split of second, he became visibly livid.  

Balin stumped back as the Halfling huffed and jumped out of the bed.   Throwing his arms about, the halfling started pacing wildly in the room.  

Thorin was distracted by the large feet stumping all over the room.   He briefly wondered about the softness of the hair before he caught sight of the Ironfoot’s protective charm wrapped around his leg. 

He furrowed his eye brow with distaste before he dragged his attention back to the halfling’s face.

The halfling stopped now.  He drummed his fingers against the desk impatiently.  His mouth opened and closed as if he was mumbling or cursing at something.  But the words still did not come out.

The action though, made Thorin fully aware that something had happened to the Halfling that caused him to be a mute.  At that realization, an unexplainable anger suddenly started to simmer within him.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Thorin caught sight of the orange cat agilely jumping off the bed.

It followed the halfling, tail brushing again his right foot.

The halfling was startled at the contact.  He looked down.   Those lively hazel eyes catching the cat, and a mix of surprise and relief erupted on his face.

The halfling screamed (soundlessly of course) with obvious joy before he picked up the orange cat.  He lifted up the cat to his eye level.   A connection seemed to be made before the Halfling cradled the cat into his arms lovingly.

Thorin had never seen a creature that could display so much emotion in such a short of time.

Sure.  Dwarves were normally rowdy race.  But they were just that.  Rowdy and loud.   The range of emotion the halfling displayed was oddly endearing. 

The mute halfling gently placed the cat on the floor as the raven chose this time to fly over and perched on his shoulder.

The confusion was quickly replaced with shameless happiness again as a wide smile blossomed on the halfling’s face.  He playfully traced his finger against the markings on the raven’s head.  He laughed without sound.

And to Thorin’s astonishment, the raven, which usually was a proud creature, seemed to tolerate it.

The halfling dropped his hand while the raven continued to perch on his shoulder.  He looked around the room restlessly, seemingly to be searching for something.

“The black wolf is too big to be allowed in.  Halfling.”    

The hobbit widened his eyes with surprise but it did not last long.  In fact, as if he suddenly recalled something, he stumped his foot with agitation.   In quick but surprisingly silent strides,  the halfing crossed the room and jabbed his finger into Thorin’s chest.  He then crossed his arms in front of him.   He mouthed some words.   But as soon as he realized that no sound had come out, he threw his arms up with frustration.  

Thorin was confused.   “The wolf is too big, halfling.”   He repeated the words slowly, wondering if the halfling was a dimwit and had not heard him the first time.

At that, the halfling only looked more agitated.

Balin chuckled behind them.   “Here.”   The wise advisor produced a set of parchment, feather quill, and ink.  “This may help.”  He winked.

The halfling brightened at the sight of the offered goods and took eagerly.    He paced over to the desk.  Before he started writing, he smiled appreciatively at Balin.  But for Thorin, however, he spared only a look that seemed almost like a pity.  

Thorin felt annoyed.   “I am not a dimwit.”   The words came out defensively without control.

When the halfling thrusted the parchment into his hand unceremoniously, Thorin was surprised but dutifully looked down at the written words.

_I am not half of anything!  I will have you know!_

It would appear that the halfling was a fussy little thing. And when was the last time someone had spoken to him like this?

Thorin stared at the fuming halfling, who stood at least a good head shorter than him. And for the first time since he could even remembered, Thorin laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin finally met properly! well.. as well as it could go under the circumstances right? :) Thanks again for reading.


	10. Chapter 10: Shaken

Chapter 10 Shaken

IT was certain.  ITS faith in ITS calculation unshakable.

BILBO BAGGINS had made a deal with IT just so he could travel back in time to see his dwarf again.  The halfling, swallowed by the grief of having his affair with the dwarf cut short, believed he loved the dwarf.

The memory of a mortal is quirky and unreliable.  Even if the halfling believed that he remembered everything as clearly and as purely as distilled water, 97 percent of the chances are that the facts have gotten twisted along the way and the feelings have been smeared by a broad stroke of paint.  So IT had no trouble making the deal.  ITS logic simply could not fathom how BILBO BAGGINS wouldn’t just strangle the dwarf when he finally meet the flesh and blood.

THORIN OAKENSHIELD had made a vow and he had broken it.   Fifty eight different ways the halfling had hurt and bleeded over the broken vow.   IT was sure that the halfling’s memory could only retain seven or eight of the hurt feelings.  And that estimate was generous for IT did not even account for the additional grief and angst over those two  younger dwarfs’ severe wounds.

When facing the plain unshakable truth, 92 percent of the population would not have forgiven the deed.  Even if the halfling's dream of dwarf was full of love,  IT firmly believed, the halfling would come to his senses when he meet THORIN OAKENSHIELD.  So when  IT was gleefully watching the moment when BILBO BAGGINS awoken to THORIN OAKENSHIELD at the lake, ITS core of belief was shaken upside down.

_“...You are alive….. Thank… Yava…”_

How.   How was that possible?  Those were the words of gratefulness.  And the halfling’s eyes projected not hatred but…

In panic,  IT abruptly pulled the halfling’s consciousness under again.

Nothing in their agreement had dictated IT to deliver BILBO BAGGINS as his present physical form through time.   Nothing.  It was not if IT had broken his vow.   No.  Of course not.  IT would never break ITS words like that despicable, lowly dwarf.  IT eyed at the three animals that IT had transformed the three stowaway dwarfs into.   A rabbit would have been a nice trick for BILBO BAGGINS.   Though, a pity that it was too late to change BILBO BAGGINS’ form now.  

IT pouted.   _Let this be a lesson of overconfidence._

IT pondered.   _If not changing BILBO BAGGINS’ form, how does IT win this bet?_

THORIN OAKENSHIELD was disgustingly young and handsome; his raven black hair lush and his bearing regal.  So his grandfather was tainted, but the curse of the sickness would only plague on one Durin at a time.  

BILBO BAGGINS was a clever one with golden tongue that could sway the elf King and fickle man.  Not to mention that the stubborn Iron Hill King had fell at his feet.  Three months would be…

_Ah…_ _How embarrassing.  Of course.  The golden tongue._

ITS thin lip twisted in satisfaction as IT flickered ITS wrist and took the voice of the hobbit.

The agreement was for the dwarf to fall in love with BILBO BAGGINS.  So what if the hobbit still hold strong affection for the dwarf?   Without his clever words, BILBO BAGGINS would not be able to beguile THORIN OAKENSHIELD.  

As BILBO woke again, this time as a mute, IT was thoroughly entertained as expected.  Slithering and dripping through the crack of rocks, IT hungrily observed every details of the interactions between his specimen and the dwarfs.  When the mute BILBO BAGGINS stumped his furry feet in frustration, IT wanted to laugh along with THORIN OAKENSHIELD.  

Yes, BILBO BAGGINS.  Observe this rude, young THORIN OAKENSHIELD and remember how he does not, and will not, deserve any of your affection.  No words will come from you to beguile the dwarf.  You, BILBO BAGGINS, could only stump your feet and do nothing.

Then IT caught the fondness, and not just amusement in that pair of blue eyes, however fleeting it was.  And when IT shifted ITS attention back to BILBO BAGGINS, IT was astonished to see that the irritation was nothing but a mask of his love for the dwarf.

And THAT made IT pause.  

It was as if the molecules in IT froze over and dropped to the ground, shattering into pieces and breaking bonds.  It was as if IT was back into that endless sleep again, with nothing but silence pressing down at IT to the brink of madness.

Did the halfling forget about the way THORIN OAKENSHIELD gripping onto his delicate neck as if he worthed nothing like a twig in the dead of the winter.

HE. BROKE. HIS. VOW!

IT wanted to shout at the hobbit.   IT wanted to just sweep into the room and spirit the hobbit back to ITS realm.

But ITS word to the hobbit binded IT.  IT would not be like the dwarf.  IT would keep ITS vow.

So IT restrained every molecules in ITS being, freezing them so that they would stay put and not fling to the hobbit.

_It would not happen again._

The words chanted without being understood or acknowledged.

_It would not happen again.  This time he would keep his vow._

The lock to ITS memory rattled violently as IT literally froze ITSELF solid between the cracks of the stone.

* * *

“You are laughing!”

Thorin turned toward the source of exclamation and was just in time to watch his sister stepped into the room from behind a suspicious curtain.  

“What happened.  Why did you laugh?  I have never heard you laugh like this before, Nada.”

“Princess…”

“Oh, don’t princess me, Balin.   I am not 50!  If you think you could…”  

Thorin looked passed his fuming sister and noticed that she was not the only intruder.  Behind her, there stood the wolf that he had clearly ordered to stay out and an unknown dwarf.

There was a glint of blade, hidden in his unassuming tunic.

His smile vanished.  In a fluid motion, Thorin unsheathed his sword.  But before he could take a threatening step toward the unknown dwarf, the large raven suddenly intercepted his path.  Its enormous wing flapped close to his face before the bird landed on the shoulder of the unknown dwarf.

“Ah… Thorin.  Apology.”  Balin cut in.   “This is my.. page, Nori. He must have bumped into the princess and brought her in through the… backdoor to avoid the guards.”

The prince let the tip of his sword drop but held his gaze steadily at Nori.  Thorin had been trained by the best.   Even he almost missed the blade in Nori’s hand before it was quickly hidden again when the raven interceded.  Thorin  had heard of the whispers of spies housing in Fundin but have never actually met one.   These were trained warriors that moved in shadows.   And the youth before him, however humble he may seemed, possessed the quality of these shadow warriors he had heard of.   Thorin felt hurt that Balin did not speak the truth, never mind that he underestimated Thorin’s ability.

As if reading his thoughts, Balin sighed.  “Yes Thorin.   I had assigned Nori to guard master hobbit.”  The advisor eyed at the princess pointedly and the prince finally understood.  The knot in the pit of his stomach unwinded.

“So this is the hobbit.”  Dis, young as she was, simply crossed the room, all but skipping with glee until she stopped in front of halfling.  She cocked her head to one side and studied the foreign creature with impressive concentration from head to toes.   A thoughtful hum escaped her lips before she suddenly turned to Balin.  “He looks more like a grocer than a clown.”  Her innocent eyes widened in confusion.  “So how did he make Nada laugh like that?”

Thorin almost laughed again.   But years of practice of being princely had won out.  He had lost control once and he would not do so the second time.  Even the sight of the halfling now shaken with uncontrollable rage would not wrangle another laugh out of him.   

Oh yes,  The halfling was undoubtedly ticked by this, judging by the way his hands animatedly threw up in the air and his nose wrinkled with obvious distaste.  But his honey colored hair bounced under the rays of the sunset caught Thorin’s attention.   Unlike dwarfs, his hair was curly and Thorin had a sudden urge to want to wind the seemingly soft curls in his fingers.

Grocer?

No..  the halfling looks like….

“Oh for Mahal’s sake! How can the two of you….. Ah shit.”

At first, Thorin had thought the outburst was from Nori.  But when he saw the raven abruptly abandoned Nori’s shoulder and flew to the windowsill, he knew it was from the bird.   “You can talk.”   Thorin narrowed his eyes.  

In the corner, the wolf covered its eyes with its paws while the cat stayed closed to the hobbit. Its tail curled around his feet protectively.

“Of course it can talk.  It is a raven.”   Dis called out.

“Speak.  Raven.  Where do you come from?”

The bird was silent.

Patience running thin, Thorin started to lift his sword but was immediately taken back when a parchment was suddenly shoved into his face.

_::WAIT!::_

The large word was clearly written hastily.  

Thorin batted the parchment away with annoyance and was met with the persistent halfling with his arms wide open.  He stood between him and the raven.  

Oddly, the halfling seemed to be taller before it dawned on Thorin that the little creature was now standing on his enormous toes.  He was so close the prince could smell his scent.  Earthy with a hint of floweriness he could not identify.  “Move away, halfling.”   Thorin did his best to snarl, valiantly repressing down a bubbling sense of… endearment.

Instead of obeying his command, the halfling threw the rest of the parchment at his face.

He could have sworn that the sharp edge of the parchment had cut into his skin.  Temper flared, Thorin gripped his sword hard.  He wouldn’t hurt the halfling.  Just a swing a few hairs to the right to scare this little useless, insolent, good for nothing...

And a booming voice from the windowsill effectively stopped Thorin’s plan.  “For Mahal’s sake.  His name is Bilbo Baggins.”   The raven finally spoke.  Its articulation was uncannily clear, very much unlike the way his raven would speak.  “Stop calling him halfling.  He hates it.”

Balin smoothly shifted in with his hand firmly on Thorin’s grip.  He threw an amused look at the fuming prince first before he faced the halfling and politely inserted himself into the chaotic scene.  “Master Baggins, we finally learn of your name.”  Thorin could not understand how a wink and a grin from Balin could have dissipated the anger from the halfling so quickly.   

It was annoying.

It was so annoying Thorin contemplated dropping the sword on Balin’s boot.  He bet that would wipe off his trusted friend’s grin from his face.

“You truly have a wonderful raven.   How do your people train ravens to speak with such clear articulation?”  Balin ignored the tension vibrated from the prince.  

The halfling blinked once and then the second time.  His mouth opened before quickly shouted again.

Thorin felt the weight on his hand lifted.  He watched Balin bent and picked up the parchment all over all the floor.

“Here.”   Balin sorted the parchment before he handed neatly to the halfling…. Bilbo.

Thorin frowned as he saw the flush on Bilbo’s face.

“No need to be embarrassed, Master Baggins.”  Balin smiled.  “You did what you needed to stop Thorin from hurting your raven.   Take your time.  We just want to know where you are from so we could help you.”

Bilbo nodded and proceed to bury his nose into the parchment.   This time, the letters were written neatly on the parchment.

_:: I am an apprentice to Gandalf the Grey.  Your kind calls him_ _Tharkûn._ _The raven, the cat, and the wolf are my familiars.::_

“Tharkûn?”   Thorin stared at the creature so soft and  small before him and wondered if that maddenly wizard had finally sent help for his grandfather’s gold sickness.

“You are a wizard’s apprentice!”  Dis danced.   “But you look so small!  Can you do fireworks too?!”

The halfling only smiled.


	11. Chapter 11: The Plan

Chapter 11: The Plan 

The room was in chaos.

And Bilbo didn’t just stopped at proclaiming that he was the apprentice of Tharkun.  He went on and made more odd requests, causing Fili to feel like his stomach was doing an acrobatic tumble.

_What in Mahal’s name is Bilbo planning?_

Fili honestly hoped the the injury on Bilbo’s head was not the cause of Bilbo’s recklessness.

_And WHY is Bilbo not able to talk?_

He clearly remembered that the hobbit had spoken at the lake before he fainted again.  That accursed odd wizard/monster/ must have done something to Bilbo!

The need to talk, to ask, and to yell at the hobbit was overpowering.   The fact that it could not do so in front of Thorin, Balin, and Nori was so frustrating and stressful that the cat shifted into a defensive position without realizing;  Silently fuming, it dropped its head and a quiet hiss escaped between its teeth.   Ears flatten.  Its narrowing blue eyes focused on the hobbit.

And out of blue, Balin suddenly started to diplomatically talk about how late it was and how the injured hobbit must be needing some time to rest.

And Fili relaxed.

It had taken a lot of convincing from Balin’s part to get everyone (which included a shocked prince, an overly excited princess, and a confused spy-in-training) out of of the door.   The wise advisor-in-training must have sensed something and decided to give them some privacy.   

Not that the cat cared anyway.

So as soon as everyone left the hobbit alone in the guest room, Fili lept onto Bilbo’s lap impatiently.   “What on Durin’s Beard are you thinking, Bilbo!”   Its blue eyes stared into the hobbit’s eyes with worry.   “Why did you request to meet great-grandfather?”  Its whiskers trembled just slightly.  “And why did you say you are Tharkun’s apprentice!  The crime of lying to the royal family is not a trifle thing!”

Bilbo only smiled cryptically.

“You need to let us in on your scheme.”   Dawlin flew down from the windowsill, landing on the table with dignity.   Its voice stern, obviously as frustrated as the cat.   “Nori most definitely had heard us talking.  And he  most definitely will tell Balin about it.  Nori is a spy for the house of Fundin.  I found him in the secret tunnel listening to Fili and I while you were still unconscious.”

“What?  How is…”

The raven spared a cold glance at Kili, effectively shutting the wolf up.

The wolf reluctantly hung its head and laid down by the hobbit’s foot.

“We didn’t discuss anything important.   Fili may have said my name.”  The raven sighed.  “What are you planning?  Bilbo.  You need to let us know what you are here for.”

Bilbo regarded the raven thoughtfully.  His fingers tapped on his thigh three times before he blinked with a clarity in his hazel eyes.   

“It’s the golden sickness isn’t it?”   By now, the wolf had made itself comfortable, resting its enormous head on the hobbit’s furry right foot.    However, its black ears remained perked up with interest.   “Did you figure out something?”

The hobbit gently scratched the cat under its chin, as if to comfort; his eyes full of warmth and his smile lingered on his mouth.  But he revealed nothing.

“Oh you did, didn’t you.”  Panting with its tongue out, wolf-Kili stood up excitedly.  “You have a plan.”

Reluctantly, Fili abandoned the warmth Bilbo offered.  It stood up and jumped onto the table.  Kili would not have thought of it and Dwalin would be too prideful to get the writing tool for the hobbit.   It would be up to him to do so.   The cat gently padded to the other end of the table, taking a piece of parchment and quill into its mouth and dropped in front of the hobbit.

“How do we help?”  The wolf licked the hobbit’s hand encouragingly, skillfully avoiding its sharp teeth scraping the delicate skin.

With a bigger smile now, the hobbit took up the quill in his right hand.  Rolling his shoulder back, the hobbit habitually flatten the parchment with the other hand.   He gave a pointed look at the raven before he refocused on to the parchment.   He started to write.

All three animals immediately crowded around the small hobbit to watch words starting to emerge on the parchment.

A gasp escaped from the wolf.

A huff was heard from the raven.

And the cat… the cat only grinned and could only appreciate the brilliance of their hobbit.

* * *

 

Balin left his window open before he blew out all the candles except the one by his bed.   After  mentally checking off his completed chores, he comfortably settled into his bed.   But rather than taking up a sleeping position, he sat with his back against the soft headboard lined with pillows.  

He opened a book and started to read.  

There was just one more thing he needed to do.

And the advisor-in-training waited patiently.

* * *

 

That ungrateful, stubborn, arrogant halfling!

Unaware of the fact that his hard face had sent all guards fleeing to the opposite direction of his destination. Thorin marched down the hall with barely contained fury,   There was only one thing on his mind.   The image of a small halfling stumping his large feet and demanding to see his grandfather swirled like a tornado in his thoughts.

_What was Tharkun thinking?_  

Thorin felt spark of anger crept along his neck and up his cheek.

Sending this weak, good for nothing CREATURE, whose name is apparently Bilbo Baggins, into their Kingdom!  This is purely a suicidal mission that the accursed halfling is embarking!  Who in their right mind march into a Kingdom plagued by a gold sickness ruler with no army but a raven, a cat, and a small wolf!

Might as well drop into a den of a dragon and steal its gold!

Thorin pressed his lips thin.  A headache was on the brink of forming.

_An apprentice of Tharkun?  Does that mean he is a wizard?   Old with useless magic?   How about some fire on the finger?   Maybe a little bit rain after doing a little bit of dance?  And what is that stubborn  hafling demanding about seeing his grandfather with no preparation?   That puny sword of his is sure to do nothing against the armor of his grandfather!_

The old King’s mind may have been clouded by gold sickness.  But Thorin had no doubt the halfling could not hold a candle in front of the old warrior.

Oh no.  Thorin was not worried.  If the damn halfling demanded.. DEMANDED, (how dare he?!) like he had every right, to see his grandfather, well, whatever happened to him was none of his business.   The halfling could drag his sorry big furry feet into the court for all he care.

He would not guarantee the dimwitted halfling’s safety.  Nor would he be responsible for his fate!

Thorin opened the door to his chamber and, because he could no longer contain his anger, closed it with unnecessary force.

The echo of the door perfectly mimicked the tidal wave of frustration currently crushing his chest.

As soon as he reached his bed, he ripped away his clothings until he was just down to a simple tunic.  It was not until he carelessly flung his outer coat away, a small sound of a metal hitting against the stone floor finally brought him out of his fuming.

Thorin froze.   And he remembered.

The bead.  

Quickly bending and reaching into the coat pocket, the prince retrieved the bead he had taken from the hobbit by the lake.  

The bead that oddly bore resemblance to his courting bead.

In the privacy of his room, he took his time and carefully inspected it, twisting the bead between his fingers under the torch light.  His intense blue eyes scanned every curve and every strands of mithril on the stolen bead.  Thorin huffed out shakingly.

It was undoubtedly his work.

With the bead clenched in his fingers tightly, he then immediately crossed the room in long strides before he stopped in front of his desk and took out his most prized puzzle box.  With familiarity, he unlocked it quickly and reached in.   His finger touched a solid metal and he unconsciously inhaled.

Carefully, he drew out a bead with the same exact pattern he had retrieved from the hobbit.

_How was it possible that there are now two of his courting beads?_

No one had seen it.  No one could have replicated it.   In fact, he had only completed the courting bead with painstaking details only few 3 moon changes ago.

_Who is the halfling?!_

The prince was suddenly reminded of the locks of golden hair caressed by the rays of sunset.  Those pair of captivating green eyes fixated on him with such intelligence and liveliness lingered in his mind.   And his voice… his melodious voice, however brief it was by the lake, had touched somewhere deep in the prince’s heart.

Thorin collapsed onto his chair.   His energy suddenly evaporated like the steam in his forge. Tipping his head back, he stared up tiredly.  Silence engulfed him and the tiny blue sapphires adoring his ceiling could not offer him any comfort.  He raked his black hair with a resigned sigh.

How was he going to protect the halfling from his grandfather?

* * *

 

It was about 20 or so pages of progress into his book before Balin heard it.   

The flapping of wings that could only be made by a large raven.

“I was expecting you.”

The raven boldly stepped through the opened window.  “You are always the one with the brain.”   

Balin carefully placed the bookmark on the page before he closed the book and laid it on his lap.  “It is hard not to recognize your gruff voice.”  He looked up to the bird, eyes twinkling with amusement as he stroke his forked beard.  “Brother.”  And smiled.

“Bilbo was right.  Nori did not even need to tell you.”  The raven sighed.  “I still don’t understand how you could accept this without any doubts.”

“Not too much of a leap considering we have wizards among us.”  Balin arched his eyebrow.   “But I do admit…  Had I not hear you talk, I would have dismissed the lad initially.  He is young after all.”

“You should not underestimate Nori.”

Balin regarded the raven with curiosity.   The words of [and since when did you take notice of all the spies I trained] left unsaid.  Instead, he filed that interesting remark into his memory bank and  moved onto more pertinent matters.   “How does this come to be?”   Balin asked.  “I have checked.  And Nori would have come to me if thing has changed… The Dwalin I know is soundly asleep in his own chamber right at this moment.”

“It’s going to be a long night.”

“Oh..”   Balin smiled.  “But I am sure you know…”  The advisor-in-training sat up straight and looked expectantly at the raven.  His hands comfortably folded on top of the book.  “... I just love stories, brother.”

“Well too bad for you.”  The raven huffed with indignation.  “I am not exactly the best storyteller here.”

Balin chukled.  The raven was indeed his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, I hope Thorin was not too out of character in this chapter. I just want Bilbo to shake his depressed world a little bit. :) Thanks for all the Kudos and comments; those are starving fanfiction writer's bread and butter.... Real life still hasn't treated me that well.. so.. thank you to be patient with me....


	12. Chapter 12: Dream

Chapter 12: Dream

**_I won’t lie to you._ **

_ “No.”  The blonde sighed.  “Of course not.  Pallando.  I know that you can  _ **_see_ ** _.  With your foresight ability and all… but..”   _

**_I know this is just not right for you._ **

_ “They need me.”  The blonde interrupted with a clipped tone.  “Sauron is stirring up trouble in the East.  There are ones that I need to save.  People are suffering.”     _

**_This is the wrong situation._ **

_ “Pallando,”  The blonde gave his friend a pointed look, “even if you tell me you  _ **_see_ ** _ that I fail, which I highly doubt it since you can only see glimpse in the near future, I still need to go.”  The blonde gave a tight smile as he flexed his fingers.  His body language was conveying that the discussion was over.  “War is something that I know.  Intimately.  I can help.  You know I can help.” _

**_Yes._ **

_ “You are my friend.”  The blonde’s eye softened. Walking over, he leaned on his friend’s tall frame.  “This is what I was created for.  I am being called.  And I will do my duty.”  His eyes closed as he felt tentative arms encircled him briefly.  And then the feeling was gone as quickly.  Time seemed to suspend until he heard it. _

**_Take my hand._ **

_ “What?”  The blonde looked up.   _

**_Don’t be pedestrian, Alatar.  This way is faster._ **

_ The blonde blinked.  “You are going?   You hate people.” _

**_Saruman the White is an idiot.  I don’t trust him to do the job.  With him in the lead,  you won’t be home for months for my experiments._ **

_ “Pallando.”  There was an edge in the blonde’s tone.   “This is not a joke.  People are dying.  I am trying to end the war. This will be the last alliance.  A new age will be coming.” _

**_People die all the time.  Their lifespan is anything but a blip in time.  A transient in the presence of our static...._ **

_ “Pallando.”  The blonde warned.  The air between them started to swirl and thicken.   The tree around them seemed to grow tall and dense.   In the shadow of darkness, the two stared at each other, unmoving.  One hard.  One indifferent.   And, suddenly, as abruptly as the surrounding dimmed, his friend relented.   The indifference in his eyes was erased and his sigh chased away darkness. _

**_I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious creature that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet.  I am dismissive of the virtuous, unaware of the beautiful and uncomprehending in the face of the happy..._ **

_ “Pallando…” _

**_I am a ridiculous being redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship.  Because of you, Alatar, of course I am going._ **

_ A pause.  And the blonde’s hard stare was softened.  “Interesting how you only reveal that side of you to me.”  He pressed his lip and slowly curved into a small smile.  “You know… What you just said was not entirely true.   You are a wise being.  You always are the best among us five.. That is if you just stop pretending you don’t feel.”   The blonde stood back from his friend and then took his hand.  He searched deep into his friend’s eyes.   _

**_I vow I will never let you down._ **

_ “I know.”  The blonde squeezed his hand.  “Let’s go then.”  Firm. “Together.”   _

_ His friend dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment.  And the two blue wizards were suddenly enveloped by a wall of water.  When the water column collapsed, the two were nowhere to be seen. _

* * *

IT unfroze ITSELF.   For the first time, there was a dream.  But one that IT could not remember.  Scenery was hazy.   Voices were muffled.  Colors were off and the smell was non existent.  IT slowly retreated ITSELF back into the lake.   The feeling that the dream was important lingered.  IT chased the remnant of the dream but retrieved nothing.   

Except a name.

_ Alatar. _

IT suspended ITS human form in the water.   IT tested the name on ITS tongue again.

_ Alatar. _

The name felt familiar.  Like IT had recited thousands if not millions of time.  It…. felt like home.

_ Alatar _ .

And the lock to ITS memory rattled louder.

* * *

Dwalin was relieved.  

At least they have agreed to bring that halfling to the court.  He hated the idea of hiding that stranger in his brother’s guest room.  What does it matter if the King condemned him into a cell with eternal darkness.   Not really his problem at all.

He was not cruel.

It was just safer this way.   Mahal knows what would have happened had Thorin not built up resistance to poison over the years.   That man, who was deemed harmless, had offered gold to get closer to King.  Yet, he tried to poison Thorin and his father to over take the Kingdom.  If it was not for a young thief who came forth and tipped his brother, Dwalin shuddered how it would all go down.  He can face 100 goblins, 100 orcs, and 100 men coming at him, but he simply cannot face an enemy hiding behind smiles.  It had been a close call.  And it had happened under his watch.  It would not happen again.  Thorin was his duty to protect.  And if that means throwing any stranger into the dark cell, so be it. 

Not his problem.

Dwalin convinced himself and tamped down an unease one more time.

Not. His. Problem.

“What.”  The warrior grunted out the word.

His older brother was now eyeing him with amusement.  “You are worried.”

Pointedly ignoring his brother’s comment, Dwalin swung his double axes behind his back smoothly.  

Not. His. problem. 

“Is the halfling ready for the court?”

“Yes.  So are his familiars.”

“He is taking his pets to the court?”  The surprise only last briefly before he tried to shrug carelessly. “Well.  He will need all the help he get.”

His brother lifted the corner of his mouth.  His hand stroke his forked graying beard.  “Perhaps.”

Dwalin was not relieved.

* * *

Thorin was restless.  Standing next to the throne of his grandfather in fine clothing, he felt as if he was exposed to the whole world to see.  Even with Frerin, Dwalin and Balin standing a stone throw away below him, today felt different.  Today, Thorin felt a heavy weight had settled over him like he was buried under a mine.  But Thorin stood tall and unyielding.  The prince pressed his lips thin as he watched silently, listening to his father, who sat on a small throne to the other side of his grandfather,  interrogating on behalf of Erebor.

“What are you?”  His father eyed suspicious at the lone halfling, standing with his back straight in the middle of the grand court.  The creature’s tiny frame looked minuscule.  The citizens of Erebor flanked the lower court in massive numbers.  There were mixture of curiosity and disdain on their faces.  These were not friendly audience.

The halfling should not have asked to see his grandfather.

But the halfling ignored all that behind him.  And his familiars never showed any disturbance by them either.  His wolf laid relaxed by his feet and the raven perched on his left shoulder.  The cat was nowhere to be seen.

Thrain was not pleased by their relaxed forms.  “Where are you from? Creature?”

And predictably, the halfling said nothing.   Rather, the raven spoke, low with clarity.  “Your highness.  Allow me to present Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.   Apprentice of Tharkun.  At your service.”

Thrain raised his bushy eyebrow.   

Thorin barely noticed that Dwalin had his mouth opened in shock and Frerin was regarding the raven with awe.  Instead, the prince’s eyes trained on the halfling, expecting him to succumb to his father’s firm authoritative words.

But the halfling did not cower.  Impressively, his shoulder squared and his chin lifted if not more.  His hazel eyes focused straight not at the increasing agitated Thrain, but at the discerning King who paid not a single ounce of attention to the court.

Thorin bit his lips.  

“We have come to help the Kingdom of Erebor.  The darkness is coming and…”

In the midst of the raven’s speech, King Thror suddenly waved his hands impatiently, as if he had heard enough.  Upon command, a cluster of guards suddenly came forth from the shadow.  Thrain only sat back and sighed.

“Grandfather.”  Thorin swallowed, stepping up to the King, and momentarily broke his sight of the halfling.  “The halfling had been attacked by goblins.  Hsi body is weak and his mind is sick.  He is under my pro…”

But before he could say anything further, loud gasp suddenly erupted in the court behind him.   Thorin turned.   His eyes focused immediately to where the halfling was,  but the blonde was already gone, leaving just the raven flying in midair and the wolf stood on his paws, alert but unthreatening in the middle of the surrounding guards.  

Thorin’s heart skipped a beat as he shifted his eyes frantically to the side guards and only found confusion on their faces as well.

It was as if the halfling had disappeared in thin air.

Shouts erupted even louder.  The sound of clashing metal reverberated in the court as guards started to withdraw their weapons.  Dwalin had his double axes firmly in front of him at this moment in a defensive position.

Even with broken threads of thoughts twisted in his mind, Thorin did his best to suppressed a rising panic in his chest.  He barked out commands to calm the court.  But no one heeded his words.  

Before the prince could try the second time, the halfling suddenly materialized right before his grandfather’s throne, with one knee touching the ground.   His one hand gripped onto his small weapon.  Instead of pointing at his grandfather, the sword was pointed down against the stone floor to support him. His other hand rested on his chest, showing his pledge to the King.  His eyes unwavering.

Thror stood up shakily.   “How…”. A clarity momentarily surfaced in his clouded eyes.   “How did you get here…”   His hand flew to the hilt of his sword, but stayed as he stared at the steady hazel eyes of the halfling.  

The raven sailed through the midair, circled once before it landed on the halfling’s shoulder again.  “Your highness.  We are only here to help.”  The raven spoke slowly.

“My king.”  Balin suddenly appeared by the King’s throne.  “The goblins has been plaguing us for months.  Perhaps we should hear what they have to say.”

Thorin stood back, thoroughly taken back at how Balin suddenly inserted himself so boldly.   This was the first time Balin had over stepped his father, Fundin, to offer a suggestion to the king so directly.

“Mithril.”  The raven spoke again as the court went quiet. “You will need mithril to defend the kingdom.  My master will be able to help you find the vein in the mountain.”

Sound of murmur blanketed the court.

“Mithril.”  The King breathed the word reverently.  “You can find Mithril?”  The hand left the hilt of the sword.  He stepped closer to the halfling.  His large hands gripped onto the small frame of the hobbit, shaking and sending the raven off the halfling’s shoulder.  “Tell me how you can find Mithril!”

“Perhaps I could accompany Master Baggins when he show us where the vein of Mithril….”

The sound of Balin’s words hit Thorin by surprise.  And a sense of….  odd sensation that the prince had never experienced before settled in his gut.  It clawed at him.  It made him eager.  It made him bold and reckless.  “Grandfather.”  Before Thorin really understood what he was doing, he found himself pushing his way through the guards and cutting off Balin’s words.  “Perhaps this is best to keep within the… immediate family.”  His words were measured and collected.  At the same time he could not look into his old friend’s eyes directly.  But his peripheral vision did catch the amusement in Balin’s eyes.  He made a conscious effort to ignore it.   “Mithril is precious.”  He pushed on regardless.  “It is not a knowledge to be share easily.”

“Yes… yes.”  The King still gripped tightly on the halfling as if afraid that the creature would disappear again if he didn't hold him tight.  “You are right…. Thorin.  My... grandchild.”  The King’s eyes shifted wildly from the halfling to him. 

Thorin internally cringed at the direct sight of his grandfather’s gold sickness.  But he nodded to acknowledge his grandfather.  “I will find Mithril for you.  Grandfather.”

“You do that, my precious.  My direct blood.”  The King roughly dragged the halfling toward the prince.  The old dwarf was surprisingly strong as he all but pushed the halfling into his arms.  

The uneasiness seemed to immediately dissipated as the prince felt the warmth of the halfling pressing against his chest.  Thorin looked down at the halfling, thinking the small creature would be trembling in fear after such rough handling.  When his eyes connected with the creature’s, Thorin found that he was wrong again.  

There was no fear.  The halfling only looked up at him with wide eyes of surprise.  

There were speckles of sparkling green in his eyes.  

Emeralds.  Precious emeralds.  He could drown in their whispers.  He could….

The prince lost his words.  His hand inadvertently brushed against the tip of the halfling’s ear.   It had felt warm.

The King chose this moment to step and lean in.

Thorin looked up alarmingly and tightened his arms around the halfling, effectively blocking the halfling from his grandfather’s reach.

“Find Mithril.”  The King commanded in whispers that only Thorin could hear.  The hot breath was comfortably against his temple.  “And bring it to me.”  The last words dragged out, hammering the prince’s heart like a spear.  “All of it.”

Thorin nodded respectfully.  “I will.  Grandfather.”  His arms tightened again.

Satisfied, the King stepped back.  “Of course.  Only direct blood can be trusted.”  A twisted smile on his face.  “Of course.”  He turned as his expansive robe swept behind him in an arc.  He walked slowly out the court, seemingly to forget the rest of the court.  “Of course you will bring it to me.”  He muttered out the words like verses of song.  “Of course you will…”  He left without bothering to adjourn the court.   Like he done so many times for the past months.  

Both his father and Balin’s father hurriedly followed the King.

As soon as the King disappeared behind the doors, the court erupted into a loud commotion again.  People immediately rushed out of the hall.  The rumors, as expected, would spread throughout the kingdom in no time.  

Thorin breathed out nevertheless.

“That went well…”  Balin suddenly appeared next to him, with the raven oddly perched on his shoulder.

“What kind of sorcery was that?”  Ferrin beat Dwalin to give the next words.  His head tilted, clearly trying to get a better look at the halfling.

“You cannot go with him by yourself.”  Dwalin crossed his arms in front of his chest, with a clear non-negotiative stance.

Thorin suddenly felt very tired.  

“I think you should let the halfling breath.  You may be smothering him.”  Balin suddenly edged closer and commented nonchalantly.

Thorin immediately released his hold.

The wolf came quickly and used its body to support the halfling who was doubling over, apparently to catch his breath.  The tiny creature coughed silently as he pounded his chest.  When Thorin finally connected his eyes with the halfling, instead of finding those surprised, endearing wide eyes again, the prince found himself faced with a fuming halfling.

A clearly, very upset, very angry halfling.

“I wouldn't appreciate it if I were being suffocated under those strong arms of yours too.”   Frerin said merrily.  “Are you trying to save him or kill him?”  

The halfling huffed silently and stumped his foot once to attempt to make noise.  And then twice to discover that the effect was non-existent.  He waved his arms wildly again in the air, as if to tell them off.  When he realized that no one was really trying to understand him, he threw his hands up and roughly pushed his way through the meddling dwarfs.  He didn't even looked back at the laughing dwarfs as he walked briskly away.

Both the raven and the wolf immediately followed their master.

“Is he running away?  Do we need to chain him until he finds Mithril?”

“No. Dwalin.  He will be fine.”  Balin said patiently.  “If he can disappear, I don't think there is much you can do.”

“I want to know how he could disappear like that!”  Frerin exclaimed.  “So he is truly an apprentice to Tharkun then?”

Thorin ignores all that bickering.  His attention was forward and he, as a prince, was going to order the halfling to halt.  But the word stuck in his throat, all because he caught, at the last minute, the faint redness at the tip of the halfling’s pointed ears.

The feeling of that warmth on the halfling’s ears came back at him like the revived river in the Spring.

So rather than saying anything, Thorin only looked on as the halfling retreated briskly toward the dining hall.  

And a warm feeling surged and blossomed across his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the story is not moving too slowly... *looking at my outline* well, for those wondering what the heck happen to the "Little Mermaid Element" tag... it is coming up quickly now.... Thanks again for all those that left a kudos/comments/bookmarks. Nice to know the story is being enjoyed.... Cheers.


	13. Chapter 13: Darkness

Chapter 13 Darkness

“.... So when the ring was created…”

“The evil ring?”

“Belladonna.   A young fauntling such as yourself shall never interrupt a wizard.”

“But Gandalf, if I don’t… you are just going to go on and on without any sense!”

“Well… you will just have to be patient.  My child.”

The fauntling sighed, imitating what she had seen old Mrs. Greenfield had often done when she was displeased.  She rolled her eyes and prompted.  “And when the evil ring was created?”

“Ah yes.  So when the evil ring was created, a very wise wizard was sent from Valinor to help.”

“Wiser than you?”

“Well… I….well… he was… Pallando was...”  The wizard stuttered but recovered with a faint defiance.  “..but I am much easier to get along with.”

“So he is wiser than you.”

The grey wizard puffed a smoke with indignation. “Pallando was wise, but he connects to nothing.  He feels too much so he doesn’t feel anything.”

“That does not make sense.”  The little fauntling puckered her cute little lips with displeasure.  “How can he feels too much but feels nothing?”

“Do you want to hear the story or not?”

Belladonna sighed dramatically this time.  “Yes, Gandalf.”

“Well.”  The wizard leisurely let out another puff and settled back.  “Pallando took one look at the world engulfed in flame and then decided that the fastest way to settle the matter was to flatten the world.  Restart and remake.  So to speak.”

“What?”  The little fauntling widened her eyes. “What about all the people?  What about all the trees, the animals?  That was a stupid idea.”

The wizard nodded in agreement.  “That was not what Orome had in mind either.”    

“Orome?”

“He was…”  The wizard paused, eying at the young fauntling. “Well.. let just say Orome is Pallando’s… father.”

Belladonna hated when Gandalf treated her like she was a little 5 year old.  That was 4 years ago!  But in the interest of getting the story out of Gandalf, she let it slide.  “So what did Orome do?”

“As a great huntsman, Orome knows and loves the forest.”  The wizard looked to the east meaningfully.  “He needed something.  Rather, someone to make Pallando care about this world.   To guide him.  But he did not have time to send another wizard.   So he made one, right there and then.”

Belladonna sat up in alert.  “He made one?”

“It was not easy, but Orome was powerful.”   Gandalf winked.  “He took a branch of a thousand year old oak tree, and a flower that had just bloomed under the bliss of a full moon.  Then he reached into Pallando’s chest and took a piece of his heart.  He sliced his own palm with a dagger, letting the blood dripped onto the tissue, the oak branch, and the flower.  He blew fire to mold the mixture.  And from the ashes, a new wizard was born.”

Belladonna gasped.  “Is.. is that how you were born too?”  

“No… “  Gandalf chuckled.  “But Orome did not have time.  He was leaving with other Valars, so he had to borrow his and Pallando’s essences to make another.”   Gandalf puffed another smoke again, his eyes suddenly grew distant and thoughtful.  “And Orome was clever.  By doing so, Pallando was forever bonded to the other part of his heart.   But at the same time, Orome’s own blood make sure that the new wizard, Alatar, is independent of Pallando.  So… Pallando may not feel the world around him like you and I do, but he could never leave Alatar.  He simply could not bear to.”

Belladonna suddenly felt a tightness in her chest.  Even if she was young, the little fauntling was appalled at the idea of someone forced into bonding with another.  “That was not fair to Pallando.”  She judged.

“Was it fair to the world that had plunged into hell because of the selfishness of Sauron?  Was it fair to the world that was almost at the brink of destruction because its supposedly savior think it was too much trouble to mend the wrong?”   Gandalf smiled sadly.  “War is not a fair game.  My little one.”

The fauntling paused briefly, worrying her bottom lip a bit before she gently shook her head.  “Then.. what happened?”  She whispered, afraid to find out the answer but eager to know the ending.

Before Gandalf could respond, a strong gust of wind suddenly swiped through, accompanying with the loud sound of squawking.  Both the wizard and the fauntling’s attention shifted to the source of the commotion.

Under their watchful eyes, a giant eagle flexed its expensive wings with ease.  Its light brown feathers seemed to glow under the afternoon sun.  Scratching its claws in the dirt, the giant creature dug for a better purchase on the side of cliff before it turned its head toward its passengers.  Dark beaded eyes which seemed to hold thousand years of this world’s history, stared back at them with sharp focus.

“Well.  I guess our break is over, Belladonna.”  Picking up his staff, Gandalf stood up.  “Time to continue on with our journey to the East.”  He superficially brushed the dirt off his robe before he picked up the fauntling and helped her get on the back of the large eagle.

“What happened to the wizards?   You have to tell me, Gandalf.  You can’t leave it at a cliffhanger like that!”

Gandalf got on the eagle with a surprising agility.  Gently draping a large coat to wrap around Belladonna, he replied lightly.  “You can’t hear me over the wind.”  Gandalf settled down behind Belladonna, enveloping the fauntling protectively as he gripped onto feathers with tight fists.  “You should know that.  We have been traveling for 2 days now.”

Belladonna cranked her head and eyed at him sourly.  “You are doing that on purpose.”  She muttered petulantly under her breath before she turned her focus back to the front.   A lonely peak of a snow capped mountain majestically stood out in the distant horizon.  

Gandalf had said that was the home of dwarfs.  A race that also lived underground, but much much deeper.  At that thought, the sadness of the fate of Pallando and Alatar was momentarily forgotten.  Rather, the imagery of a lively market under the mountain filled her head.

How do the dwarfs get sunlight so far underground?  What do they grow for food?  What is a hot spring?

She thought of a mysterious race of people with hair growing on their face and not on their feet.

She giggled.  

Wouldn't that be a mess to deal with?

Oblivious to the musings of its passengers, the eagle stood tall, feeling the wind caressing its body.  And then, when the eagle sensed an up drift, it took off from the cliff with one powerful flap of its wings.  It headed toward Erebor.

* * *

Dwalin was not pleased.  He stared distrustfully at the boat ahead, which carried both Thorin and the halfling.  The odd raven perched at the front of the boat, as Thorin’s guide.  In contrast, at Dwalin’s side was the black wolf that laid comfortably by his feet.  The warrior grunted with distaste.  “Bloody wolf.”   If it weren’t for the beast, Thorin wouldn’t have to carry the halfling in his two-passenger boat to get across this underground waterway.   There was no way he would like wolf to be on the same boat as Thorin.  Rather the soft halfling than that sharp-toothed beast.  So Dwalin was left to paired with the wolf rather than being in Thorin’s boat to protect him.  That halfling is a soft creature that knew nothing of danger lurking in the shadow.  Sure he could do that disappearing trick.  But that just further proof that the halfling is no warrior and need the trick to protect itself.  That would have been useless to Thorin.  At that thought, Dwalin resisted to urge to kick the wolf again.  Not because he cared about the animal, but because he didn’t want the action to mess with the balance and send both of them into the dark water.  The only saving grace, is that at least he was able to successfully tag along with this expedition of looking for Mithril.  Dwalin bristled as he recalled how Thorin try to dissuaded him from joining him.  

Not a chance in hell.

As they went deeper into the cave, his unease grew, and he was glad he had insisted.  They were heading into the section of mountain that had not been explored.  They were deep within a undeveloped cave, traveling on underground water passage, illuminated by nothing but their own torches on the boats.  Although it made sense to him that they were wandering into uncharted territory to find Mithril, Dwalin worried about the loose boulders and the risk of a cave in.  Mahal knows how much all these underground water had eroded this section of mountain!

Dwalin gripped tight on the oars, forcing the unpleasant thought out of his mind.  Bloody hell, he was becoming more and more like Balin.   All those planning and scheming just did not suit him.  No more worries about things that he could not control.  He needed something to distract him from going down that path.

His muscle flexed in a rhythmic motion as he rowed the boat, following Thorin’s lead.  Under the flickering of the torches, he watched Thorin rowing easily with the halfling sitting across him.  There were no words exchanged between them.   Well, with a mute halfling, of course not.  But the interesting thing was how Thorin really never looked at the halfling directly.  His face was as impassive as always; but something about the way he straighten his back caught Dwalin’s attention.   His motion was rhythmic but rigid.  It was as if they were young dwarfling again, approaching the sparring partner with wariness and caution and worst of all, full of self consciousness about his every move.

Well.  Thorin, the direct line of successor of Erebor, the mighty kingdom of dwarfs, nervous of a harmless creature such as halfling?  Ha.  Sure.  The halfling, even without beard, was not a bad looking sort.   The soft glow from the torches seemed to put a golden halo around the halfling, making the creature look soft and delicate…    At that thought, Dwalin paused.  All the years that Dwalin knows Thorin, the prince did seem to have preference of  more delicate small things.

Was it possible that Thorin was interested in the hobbit?

Dwalin snorted.

That soft creature was no warrior.  Even if he could do a impressive disappearing act, it was just further proof that he was no warrior at all.  Resorting to hiding was a cowardly act.  That halfling could not have won Thorin’s heart.

Dwalin eyed at the pair in the boat.

… Could he?  

Dwalin furrowed his eyebrows.  He rowed silently, listening to the sound created by his oars and the droplets of water dripping off the rocks from above.  A gentle breeze went by and the halfling shivered.

Dwalin almost dropped his jaw as he saw Thorin suddenly wrestled out of his outer coat (not an easy feat with oars in his hands, mind you).  The prince threw the coat at the halfling unceremoniously.  Their eyes met and suddenly, Thorin looked away again.  The halfling was left holding the coat, covering his face.  

When Dwalin finally recovered from the shock of watching the scene unfolding before his eyes, the side of his mouth started curl into a smirk.  

He cleared his throat.  “ _There you see him, sitting so prettily across the way.”_ Deliberately shifted into Khuzdul, Dwalin leered.  “ _The halfling doesn’t get a lot to say, but there’s something about him.  Isn’t it, Thorin._ ”

“ _Shut it, Dwalin_.”  Thorin replied mildly in Khuzdul.

Dwalin hummed.  He was first confused at the mild tone of the prince but then he quickly realized that Thorin just didn't want to draw attention to the halfling.  The halfling, who was currently shifting his attention between them with rapt interest.  It was clear that the halfling did not know what he was talking about.

Oh.  This is getting interesting.  

Judging by how straight Thorin was sitting in the boat, Dwalin discovered with glee that his prince was embarrassed.

Ain't that something.

“ _And you don’t know why, but you’re just.. JUST dying to try to fuck the little halfling.  Aren’t you?_ ”  The warrior tested deliberately with lewd language and then immediately barked out a laugh as his saw that his old friend shifted uncomfortably, but stubbornly (but perhaps wisely) remained silent.

What is a friend to do but to tease more?  Be glad that he is doing this in Khuzdul!

“ _Oh… look at him, you know you do._ ”  If Dwalin didn’t know any better, he could have sworn Thorin just doubled his pace, trying to put a larger distance between them.  “ _You know… It’s possible he wants you too.  And you know know there’s only one way to ask him._ ”   Feeling totally at ease at the expense of the prince’s discomfort, Dwalin pushed on.  “ _It doesn’t even take a word, not a single word.  Go on and kiss him,  Thorin.  Get it over with. Don't try to hide it.  How you wanna kiss…_ ”

The prince’s boat suddenly jerked violently and then abruptly veered to the side, following the narrow water passage on the left, rather than the main passage.

Dwalin let out a string of curses as the wake of Thorin’s boat sent Dwalin’s off course.  He quickly scrambled to correct the course of his boat to follow suit.  By the time he looked up, he noticed that the halfling was now training his attention solely on Dwalin now.  

Must be a clever one.  Dwalin mused, sensing that the wide eyes seemed to now glare at Dwalin accusingly for the frown on Thorin’s face.

Was the halfling already able to read his prince’s mood so well?  Why was the halfling so protective of Thorin?

Dwalin shrugged.  It really was not his business.  Glancing at the wolf next to his feet absently, Dwalin noticed that the wolf has shifted position as well. Rather than snoozing lazily like before,, its ears stood alertly and its eyes seemed to watch him with… what, curiosity?   And was that a snarl?  No….  laugh?  

Dwalin considered.  What if...

“ _Looks like the boy's too shy_.”  He continued in Khuzdul, his eyes focused on the beast.  “ _He ain't gonna kiss the halfling_.”

The wolf seemed to widen its mouth showing row of sharp teeth.  And then, with its icy blue eyes full of spirit, it nodded.

Nodded.

Dwalin inhaled sharply.  The wolf understood him.   It understood Khuzdul, the secret language of their race.  Thoughts swirled in his head.  It was not possible.  “You…”

But a sudden swish sound prevented him from complete the sentence.  

“Get down!”  Shouting, Dwalin watched in horror as he saw another arrow was unleashed and heading directly to the prince’s boat.  The boat rocked under the flickering torch as Thorin threw himself toward the halfling.  

The third arrow missed Thorin by an ear length above his head.  

“Cowards!  Show yourselves!”  They were about 2 boats length apart now.   For the first time, how Dwalin wished Frerin was here rather than the wolf.  He couldn’t even use his axes to deflect the arrows.  The wolf stood helpless on all fours now.  It's blue eyes scanned around the cave frantically, looking for the source of assault.

The enemy can see them in the cave because of….  Light…. LIGHT!!

“Get rid of the torch!”  Dwalin screamed, putting his back into rowing to shorten their distance.  “Put out the light!!! Put it out!”

At that, the raven rushed into action, lifting off in air.  With a flap of its large wings, it attempted to extinguish the fire.

Another arrow launched and an anguish growl torn through Thorin’s mouth.

“No!!”  The raven yelled.  Instead of flapping its wings, it slammed its body into the torch this time.  Hard.  

The torch rolled into water along with the raven with a splash.  

Darkness enveloped Thorin’s boat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear.. I have been fighting with this chapter for a month now. But I lost my patience trying to tweak its flow. *duck* I hope it went okay. The song... if you recognized it.. had been jammed into this chapter. I hoped it fit well and not too forced. This chapter was the original idea that had me started this story. And it took me 13 chapters and almost a year to get to this point... well.. let me know. Thanks again for all those that left kudos, comments, and bookmarks. Thank you for the patience.

**Author's Note:**

> First try at The Hobbit... It will be a darker Little Mermaid ish story.


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